Hermione Granger: Sorceress
by Lil Drop Of Magic
Summary: Apparently, having more superhero friends only means there are many more interesting situations to find yourself in. (Part 3 in series)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the Harry Potter or Marvel franchises in any way, shape or form.

A/N Hello! I hope this hasn't been too long of a wait for you all!

Warning to new readers - I highly recommend you go back and read Hermione Granger: Agent of SHIELD and Hermione Granger: Avenger before starting this fic, otherwise you are likely to be very confused!

* * *

"Yeah, the four seats over there. D'you see them?"

Hermione turned her head in the direction that Steve was pointing and spotted the vacant flip down chairs a few yards away. "I see them."

She let Steve lead the way, his muscular frame easily parting the busy crowd, and Natasha and Clint came after her. They excused themselves as they shuffled past the other spectators on their row before finally getting to their designated seats.

The crowd inside Citi Field stadium started cheering and Hermione looked around in bewildered confusion. Steve started clapping his hands next to her and she swept her eyes along their seats with a frown.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather sit with someone who actually knows about baseball?" she asked him. "I don't think I'm going to be a very good companion."

"Don't look at me," Natasha said, taking her seat with a long sip of her drink. "I'm only here for the food and beer."

Steve shook his head. "Don't worry, Hermione, it's fine."

Clint looked at her, puzzled. "Why'd you come if you don't know anything about the game?"

"Well," Hermione shrugged slightly. "I wouldn't say I don't know _anything_ ; I did read a couple of books about baseball this morning." Clint promptly choked on his bite of hotdog and Natasha had to whack him on the back to clear his airways. "But I think it'll all make a bit more sense when I see it," she added hopefully.

Twenty minutes into the game, Hermione was pretty much none-the-wiser about what was going on. She knew the overall aim of the game was to hit the baseball with the bat and run around the markers to score. She also knew the names of the teams: the New York Mets and Los Angeles Dodgers, and she could check the score on the big screen, but all the finer points were quite lost on her. However, the atmosphere was enjoyable to be part of and her friends seemed happy so she just let it all wash over her. It wasn't often that she or the others let themselves switch off from work.

It had been two months and two days since the Battle of New York but Hermione had long been able to wean herself off of the dreamless sleep potion that had been necessary immediately after her encounter with Loki. She still had a bad night roughly twice a week; it was much the same after the defeat of Voldemort, but it would be unwise to become too dependent on the potion.

The city itself was slowly recovering too and the hysterical reactions to the whispers of an extra-terrestrial attack had long since been swept away by other global events. The reason that the existence of the Chitauri had been kept to nothing but a supposedly-wild conspiracy theory was due to Harry and the USA's Ministry of Magic-loaned team of hit-wizards.

When Harry had surprised her in Central Park, she'd been more than a little shocked to discover that he and other magical people had been involved in the battle against Loki's forces – and that Steve had been aware of it too! Steve had looked guilty about the deception but Hermione was just relieved that she didn't have to hide a huge part of her secret life from him. Steve had departed from Central Park soon after Harry had shown up, recognising that the two friends had a lot to say to each other.

When they were alone and Hermione had erected a couple of anti-snooping shields, Harry explained how, when Hermione had gone missing after the destruction of Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S, Nick Fury had feared the worst and believed her likely to be under Loki's spell. Fury had contacted Kingsley's office using the emergency procedure they'd put in place when she'd become a part of S.H.I.E.L.D and Kingsley had gone to Harry, filling him in on her true profession. Harry had portkeyed over to the States, ready to intervene if she'd been turned because Fury had known how helpless they'd be to stop her. When she'd escaped, Fury suggested that Harry remain on standby just in case things turned sour. Upon hearing that Loki planned to unleash an alien army on the world, Harry hadn't sat around idly twiddling his thumbs, but had met with the American Ministry of Magic and convinced them to loan out a large proportion of their top hit-wizards to be ready to secretly come to the muggles' aid should the need arise.

Harry and his team had arrived in Midtown within seconds of the portal being opened and it hadn't taken them long to notice Hermione flying around causing chaos. They'd all been expertly disillusioned to stop the muggles from noticing them and set about protecting the inhabitants from the attackers and using their magic to disrupt the television cameras. Harry had waited until Hermione had isolated herself in the diner and set up the anti-disapparition wards to stop her from escaping, (an event she had no recollection of) and amid the cacophony of their duel, Steve had knocked her out with his shield. For the remainder of the battle, Harry and the hit-wizards' priority had been to evacuate the muggles to safety and modify their memories of what they'd seen.

"Your Nick Fury was _not_ happy when he heard we wouldn't do more to combat the aliens," Harry admitted, looking sheepish. "But we had our orders and I knew Loki would be defeated once you were back on the right side."

"Wait, Fury knows about the American hit-wizards?" Hermione asked in alarm. She thought that as far as the Director was aware, magical beings were only residents of the UK.

"Not exactly," Harry said. "He thinks I brought them over from London with me." Hermione let out a breath of relief but Harry looked around the park with a frown. "It's all so complicated."

"It's necessary," Hermione responded firmly. "Fury's never going to fully trust us; it's better he knows as little as possible."

"And Rogers?" Harry asked curiously. "Where does he fit in all of this?"

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears and wound some of the ends around her finger. "I don't really know," she admitted with a shake of her head. "He's…different," she said eventually. "He caught me out in a lie very early on. I couldn't bring myself to try and deceive him again so it was easier not to tell him anything at all." She caught Harry's eye and saw that he was smiling at her knowingly. "What?" she asked.

"I know that look," he claimed teasingly. "And who it used to be directed at."

Hermione laughed. "No, Harry. Just because I like Steve, it doesn't mean I… _like_ him."

Harry didn't look convinced. "If you say you," he shrugged. "But you're sure we can trust him? He's not going to tell any of your new super-buddies that you're not quite as unique as they thought?"

She mulled this over. "Not unless I give him a reason to doubt my intentions," she replied, "and I think the last few days have shown him morally where I stand, even if he's unsure of a lot of other things about me."

And as far as she knew, Steve hadn't breathed a word about Harry to anyone.

A small part of her had wanted to tell Steve everything about her world when they met for their next history session. He was waiting for her on the steps outside the New York Public Library and was looking at the building with a bemused expression.

"Every other building in Midtown gets wrecked and this one emerges unscathed," he muttered before giving her a questioning glance. "You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

"I told you, it's my favourite," she replied defensively, crossing her arms across her chest. "I wasn't about to let Loki's hordes destroy it."

"But…how did you find the time?" he asked in awe, as they ascended the steps.

She flashed him a smile. "That's one of the benefits of a being a witch!"

He paused and looked back at her. "A _witch_?"

Hermione froze, eyes wide. Thirty seconds in his company and she'd already blurted out a mistake! She held up a finger. "Um, let's just get somewhere a bit more private first." She stormed off to their previous study room, furious with herself, and Steve had to jog to catch up after her sudden change of pace. Once the relevant locking and privacy wards had been put in place, Hermione sat abruptly in the chair, Steve sliding into his less aggressively. "A witch is the technical term for someone like me," she explained grumpily, still annoyed with herself.

"Not a sorceress?"

"No. That's something Fury and I decided to use for protection purposes," she explained. If anything, it was to appease the magical folk around the world who might prick their ears up if they heard the muggles were employing a 'witch'.

"So, Fury knows the truth about you too?"

Hermione tilted her head. "In a way," she agreed. "But he doesn't know nearly as much as he'd like."

Steve chewed over these words, nodding slowly. "You're protecting your people. That's why you lied to me the last time we were here." He looked annoyed with himself. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have gotten on my high horse and passed judgement on you."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," she objected. "You've had a lot to come to terms with in the last couple of weeks."

"Well, that may be true," he admitted, shifting in his seat, "but I want you to know that I don't want you to tell me anything you're not comfortable in sharing. I understand that it's not just your secrets you're holding."

Hermione felt such a rush of gratitude towards him that she could've kissed him – in a purely platonic way, of course. She settled for a friendly squeeze of his hand instead. "Thank you, Steve," she said. "I want to tell you, really I do. Some of it's so extraordinary I can barely believe it myself!" She saw an almost pained expression on his face in response to her words and she bit her lip in deliberation. It couldn't hurt to tell him a few little things, could it? It was only fair if he was going to keep her secret, after all…

She cleared her throat. "Um, you remember that desolate boarding school I told you about?"

He nodded.

"That was true," she admitted cautiously. "It just _didn't_ teach the subjects you probably thought it did."

Steve gaped at her. "You went to a _magic_ school?"

She grinned and nodded.

Ever since that meeting, Hermione had allowed herself to tell Steve one thing about her world whenever she saw him. As they met up two or three times a week, he soon had an assortment of facts to start to make a picture of her life before S.H.I.E.L.D. It was reckless and indulgent, she knew that, but the look in his eyes when she told him about ghosts or moving staircases was extremely addictive.

"How are you enjoying the game?" Steve asked her, halting her musings.

"Oh, um, I'm still a little confused, to be honest," she said, annoyed with herself because it shouldn't be so difficult to understand a game that was played with just one ball at a time!

She grinned mischievously and leaned in close to Steve, missing the nudge and knowing look that Natasha sent Clint.

"We have a sport that's played on flying broomsticks," Hermione whispered lowly to him so the others wouldn't hear.

Steve looked at her with a hint of suspicion and then shook his head, laughing. "How do I know if anything you've ever told me is true?"

"Don't you think you'd be able to tell?" she asked teasingly, their faces still just a couple of inches apart. "You worked it out the last time."

He stared at her for a moment then laughed again. "Wow," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Now that's something I'd like to see."

Hermione felt the smile die on her lips. Was she being cruel telling Steve about things he'd never get to experience?

She was prevented from perusing that thought any further when Natasha turned to them both looking uncharacteristically happy. "Hey, I forgot to say, Clint and I have managed the impossible and snagged each of you a blind date."

"What?" Steve asked, looking appalled, while Hermione laughed falsely.

"That's funny," she said, "because I've obviously forgotten the conversation we had where I asked you to interfere with my love life." She then registered exactly what Natasha had said and frowned. "And _why_ is finding us dates an impossible task?"

"Well, without telling people exactly who you are, it's kind of hard to sell a couple of uptight fuddy-duddies," Natasha explained unapologetically.

"If you described us like that, it's amazing you found anyone at all!" Hermione scoffed.

"What should we have said, then?" Natasha asked innocently.

"Surely you could have told them how compassionate and hard-working Hermione is," Steve suggested instantly. "Not to mention her courage and intelligence."

Hermione felt her cheeks warm at his words and Natasha turned to Clint.

"Does Hermione's date know all of that?" she asked him.

"Yep," Barton answered, not taking his eyes away from the game.

"And does Steve's date know he's loyal, brave, kind-hearted and a perfect gentleman?" Hermione enquired.

"She does," Natasha replied evenly. "So, does this mean you're going to go?"

Hermione and Steve shared a look to gauge each other's feelings on the matter before turning back to Natasha. " _No_ ," they said in unison.

* * *

Steve pulled uncomfortably at the knot of his tie as he entered the front door of the restaurant. He couldn't believe he'd let Agent Romanoff bully him into agreeing to this blind date. The main reason he'd given in was so that she'd hopefully leave him alone after tonight but, knowing how persistent the notorious Black Widow could be, he had his doubts.

Another contributing factor to his compliance was that it was going to be a double date because Hermione would be there too. So, if it was a complete disaster, there was at least someone else present that he could talk to… unless she got too caught up with _her_ date, of course. Unfortunately, judging by the _glowing_ recommendation that Natasha had seen fit to give Steve earlier that day, that was a distinct possibility. The man Barton had set Hermione up with was apparently nothing short of ' _perfect_ ' for her. For some reason, Steve found that, despite having not met him, he already heartily disliked this mystery man.

It was a stifling summer evening in New York City and Steve sincerely wished that Romanoff hadn't picked such a fancy restaurant for the occasion. He didn't think he'd felt so out of place for a long time. Sure, he might look the part, but inside he was still the same scrawny kid from Brooklyn who wouldn't back down from a bully, no matter how many punches he'd receive for his troubles.

The maître d' showed Steve to the table as the gentle hum of chatter and clink of cutlery engulfed him. He could see that he was the first to arrive, as he'd expected, and he allowed himself to be ushered into his seat and presented with an elaborate drinks menu.

"Thanks," he muttered, placing the menu straight down on the table in front of him without glancing at it.

As for his own date, Natasha had told him very little except that she knew her through work, and that Steve was 'bound' to like her because everyone did, whether they wanted to or not. However, this failed to convince him; whatever spell his date managed to work on others, he doubted it would work on him because he just _wasn't_ interested. He was too busy with adapting to life in the twenty-first century and starting work with S.H.I.E.L.D. to get caught up in anything romantic. It would be unfair to expect any potential partner to put up with his dangerous and hectic lifestyle when one morning he could be in Hong Kong and the next evening he could be dead. Of course, he hadn't failed to notice that casual relationships were far more frequent and socially acceptable these days but he couldn't quite reconcile himself with the idea of being so intimate with someone he'd just met… No, he was far better off alone.

Something gold glittered in his peripheral vision and he turned.

Hermione was being led towards him and before Steve even realised what he was doing, he was stood up, holding out a chair for her. The maitre d' gave him a confused look and Steve stepped away from the seat feeling embarrassed.

"Oh, Steve, thank goodness you're here," Hermione said nervously as she approached. "I can't believe I even agreed for Natasha to set this up, let alone allow her to get me all dressed up for it! She accosted me a couple of hours ago with an entire rack of dresses and a giant container filled with more beauty products than I've ever seen in my life! Do, do I look all right?" she asked him with worried eyes, doing a little turn on the spot.

"Uh…" She looked _far_ more than 'all right'.

Ever since their first meeting just over a couple of months ago, Steve had gotten to know Hermione far better than he possibly could have imagined. They'd had plenty of quiet study sessions in the library, semi-frequent movie nights at his flat where she'd happily eat her own body weight in pizza (his new favourite food) and they'd gone on other outings too, like their trip to watch the Mets game last week. In all that time, he'd never found himself so stuck for words as he did then.

He'd always considered her to be pretty, even when she'd tried to kill him and was covered in grime and dust after New York. Her mysterious 'Sorceress' aura had its own allure and he quite often found her endearing, even though he was well aware that she could look after herself. He was glad that she felt like she could relax and be herself around him and didn't _have_ to spend two hours getting herself ready before they went anywhere. But from the top of her smoothed and silky hair, past the beautiful, chocolate eyes, delicate lips, bedazzling, gold beaded dress, all the way to the ends of her interminably long, glossy legs he could only see perfection.

"You look stunning," he said hoarsely. Her face lit up into a wide smile and he felt his heart beat in double time for a moment. Then he remembered that she was on a date with someone else and it was like someone had injected ice into his veins. "Your date's one lucky guy."

She laughed brightly. "Thanks," she said, reaching up to straighten his tie and he tried not to flinch at her touch. "And yours is going to be one happy girl; you look even more handsome than you usually do!" Steve tried not to read anything into her words; he was sure that she was just being polite. "Merlin, I'm so nervous, which is ridiculous because I don't even want to be doing this," she gabbled, taking the seat that Steve had pulled out for her. "But this is the first time I've ever done anything like this! I really don't know what to expect. I mean, what do I do if I don't like him? Or what about if I _do_?!" She rested her head in the palm of her hand and looked up at him anxiously as he sat down too. "This is all so stupid. I'd much rather be at yours watching the next film on your list," she sighed.

Steve completely agreed with her but thought it best not to say that. "We're here now," he reasoned instead. "We might as well make the most of it."

Hermione nodded and then shifted in her seat with a frown. "I _told_ Natasha this dress was too short," she muttered, still squirming. Steve froze, determined not to lower his gaze from her face. "I tried to lengthen it with my wand but she wouldn't let me," Hermione continued, oblivious to his internal struggle. Mercifully, she soon settled down but she fixed him with a concerned look. "Are you all right? You're very quiet tonight."

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Just nervous, like you." And he _was_ nervous – not about meeting the stranger that Romanoff had set him up with, but about how Hermione was making him feel. He used to be perfectly comfortable around her and now he was second guessing every word he said and every little movement of his body. Steve wished he could knock some sense into himself and remember that this was the same Hermione as always. _Books_ , he recalled, _she likes books. Talk about books! No, everyone knows that, come on, you can do better._

"Did you see the latest warning from The Mandarin this morning?" Steve asked, because nothing quite reinforced the 'we're just friends' dynamic better than a discussion about a maniacal terrorist.

"Yes," she replied grimly and Steve realised that it was actually a rather stupid question to ask someone in her line of work. "Apparently, Fury's having difficulty in establishing the video's origin, even though he's got his best analysts on it."

"That's too bad," Steve said. "I'd love to put that man exactly where he belongs."

Hermione nodded sombrely and a silence settled over them. Steve cast around desperately for something else to say but nothing was coming to mind.

Hermione leaned forwards with a serious expression on her face. "Steve, I just want you to know, I've been giving it some serious thought and, well…" She paused and he waited with bated-breath to hear what she was going to say. "I _still_ think you're wrong about Gianluca's having better pizza than Maretti's." Her face broke into a grin and Steve laughed in relief.

"Oh, really?" he said, the challenge clear in his voice.

"Yes," she replied and they launched into a seven minute comparison on the merits of the different pizzerias. This swiftly morphed into discussions on his latest music ventures, which films looked any good at the movie theatre and an amusing tale from Hermione about what had happened when she'd attempted to cook at beef stew a couple of nights ago.

Steve had slipped so easily back into his familiar friendly conversational tone with Hermione that it had taken a noisy vibration from her cell phone to remind him of the consternations he'd been having around her a few minutes ago. He took a relieved gulp from the glass of water the waiter had brought them. Yes, this Hermione looked more glamorously attired than normal, but it hadn't prevented his mind from remembering that the woman opposite him was his friend – he now had to come to terms with the self-revelation that he might not want to be _just_ her friend.

"It's from Natasha," Hermione told him, referring to the message on her phone. "My date's not coming – he's been called away." Right, they were on a double date. He'd almost forgotten. Hermione looked up at him with a distinct air of disappointment and bit her lower lip, instantly drawing his attention to it. Yep, definitely more than just friends.

He cleared his throat as she tucked her phone back in her purse and scooted her chair backwards. "You don't have to go," he proposed but she sent him a sceptical look.

"What, and play third wheel to you and 'Miss Perfect'?" she muttered, getting to her feet. "No, it's OK, Steve. I didn't want to be here anyway, remember?"

"Excuse me, Mr Rogers?" a waiter enquired, pausing at their table.

"Yes."

"There's been a call at the bar. I'm afraid the woman who was going to meet with you has been indefinitely detained," the waiter said apologetically. Steve stared at the man for a moment before turning to Hermione with a dubious expression. At the waiter's words, she'd folded her arms across her chest and her lips were pressed firmly together. "I do also bring some positive news," the waiter continued, turning and picking up a tray with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "Miss Romanoff wants you both to enjoy this."

"Unbelievable," Hermione muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

Steve frowned at their gift as the waiter placed it on their table. He would be having a serious word with Natasha the next time he saw her; he didn't take kindly to being manipulated by others. "What do you think we should do?" he asked.

Hermione huffed and put her hands on her hips. "Well, it _would_ be a shame to waste it, if Natasha's already bought it," she pointed out slowly, and then shot a quick look at the waiter. "She has paid for it, hasn't she?"

The waiter nodded.

* * *

Hermione meandered down Madison, arm looped through Steve's, unable to keep a smile off of her face. The evening had turned out very differently than she'd anticipated it would but, at that moment, she had no complaints.

She couldn't believe how easily Natasha had been able to play her! That Black Widow had better watch her back for the next couple of weeks if she wanted to avoid becoming victim to a few embarrassing jinxes.

Hermione and Steve had consumed the champagne and enjoyed a nice dinner, talking about everything and nothing. In many ways, the evening was just like lots of others she'd spent with Steve except for the fancy food and clothes. The alcohol, too, was something out of the ordinary and she was feeling pleasantly lightheaded as Steve escorted her back to the building Tony had decided was going to be re-christened 'Avengers Tower', which was where she was staying for the evening. None of them could ever use the main entrance to the building anymore as it was frequented by rather passionate fans who loitered there in the hopes of seeing one of their heroes. There was, however, a secret entrance round the back that had yet to be discovered by any of these keen individuals.

"Tony says we can each have our own room and it'll be designed in whatever style we want," Hermione said to Steve as they walked into the parking lot underneath Stark Tower. "I'm thinking of requesting a rather garish clash of colours just to see the look on his face!"

Steve chuckled and her heart did a little flutter in her chest, just like it had done every time he'd looked at her that night, because he'd never looked at her like _that_ until a couple of hours ago. She'd tried to convince herself that she was mistaken, that she was caught up in the excitement of the evening or that he was just surprised that she could scrub up OK when Natasha slaved away at her for two hours! But she just had this… _feeling,_ that something had shifted between them and she was both excited and terrified to explore that change.

They paused at the private lift that would take her to the residential part of the building and Hermione removed her arm from the crook of his elbow, instantly missing the lack of contact.

"Thanks for walking me back," she said quietly, suddenly feeling nervous.

"It's fine," he replied. "I needed a bit of fresh air."

She nodded. "So, I guess I'll see you for a couple of movies on Tuesday?"

"As long as we order pizza from Gianluca's," he said with a semi-serious expression and then smiled broadly, making her feel far giddier than the champagne had done. Sometimes she thought Steve was so ludicrously handsome that it almost hurt to look at him. "I'm joking; we can order whatever you want."

Hermione returned his smile warmly and pressed the button to call the elevator. "OK, well… Goodnight, Steve." She took half a step forward and kissed him softly on the cheek, his hand coming to rest on her upper arm. She moved her head back barely two inches and paused, gaze locked on his, waiting to see what he'd do.

 _Kiss me,_ she thought desperately, _please, kiss me._ She could feel his breath on her lips and sense the warmth radiating off his body.

The elevator door opened with a metallic clank.

Hermione blinked and turned away from him, glad that he couldn't see the disappointment on her face as she stepped into the lift.

"Goodnight, Hermione," she heard him say throatily as the doors hissed shut.

* * *

" _Damn_ , he should've kissed her," Natasha grumbled, watching through the highest tech binoculars S.H.I.E.L.D. issued, as Hermione stepped forlornly into the elevator. "Men are such idiots."

"Does this mean I can go home now?" Clint asked grouchily from where he was lying in the backseat of the sports car they were hiding in. "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

"You were here so that if we got discovered, I could run away while you kept them occupied," she answered evenly. Steve was still staring at the closed elevator doors until he sighed deeply and began to walk away.

"What difference would that have made," Clint muttered, "they're going to come for you anyway, you know that, right?"

"And you," she reminded him.

"I said one word!" he objected. " _Yep_. That was it! I don't see how that qualifies as an ass-kicking or painful spell."

"Take it up with them, not me," Natasha answered, observing Rogers walk out of the parking lot, none the wiser to their presence. "OK, we're good to go," she said, shifting herself away from the car window.

"I just don't understand why you actually care about this," Clint said as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Because it's been getting on my nerves!" she explained heatedly as he started the ignition. "Sure, at first, it was hilarious watching them send the other mooning glances without them even realising what they were doing, but the fun wore off a month ago. The problem is they're both so damn _nice_ and passive when it comes to this sort of thing, they would've been stuck in the same god-awful PG-13 flirty garbage for the rest of their lives – and I'm not so sure I would've been able to stomach it much longer. They just needed a not-so-subtle push to make them face up to what was right in front of their eyes." Clint drove them out into 45th Street and Natasha tried to get more comfortable in her seat. "And... You know, I was bored," she admitted with a shrug.

"Wow, Nat."

* * *

A/N See? I promised you romance in this new fic, you just probably weren't expecting it first chapter out! Now, I know some of you Hermione/Loki shippers are going to be upset but that's not a pairing I could see happening in this series. If Hermione had met Loki before all the Tesseract stuff then, maybe, but not when she's only known him to be a multiple killer who tried to take over her planet and kill herself and her friends. Sorry!

I _think_ you're going to be getting semi-regular updates from me now because I'm 80% sure I've decided to change where the ending point of this fic is going to be as it was getting too long.

The icon for this story was made by my super-awesome sister and is her take on Hermione wearing a special outfit (more of that at a much later date!).

Anyway, it's good to back! Hope you enjoyed!

Lil Drop of Magic


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Hiya! I honestly thought that it was going to be another week before I posted this but when I saw it was Hermione's birthday today, I couldn't resist!

Thank you for your reviews, follows and favourites :)

* * *

The atmosphere in the room was incredibly tense, which was stupid when, in practicality, they were all on the same side.

Hermione remained close to Director Fury, glad that she had decided to disillusion herself for this meeting; she _really_ didn't want these top United States Generals and Intelligence chiefs to know what she looked like. The uniformed men and women were all staring at her the best they could, which was difficult when she was currently camouflaged to look like the seat of her chair.

This meeting between S.H.I.E.L.D, various military departments and intelligence organisations had been brought about by their concern over the Mandarin. The military had brought their greatest asset in the fight against the deadly terrorist with them: Colonel James Rhodes and his War Machine suit, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had brought theirs: her.

Hermione hadn't wanted to attend and nor did Fury want to take her, but when they found out that Rhodes was to be present, the Director had recognised the attempt at intimidation and refused to bow down to it. She would have been amused at the stunned looks on the faces of the attendees at her entrance, if she hadn't been so daunted by the combined authority in the room. They'd all heard rumours of The Sorceress, of course, but they'd never expected to find that the name was _literal_.

The only other person in the room who wasn't completely astounded by her apart from Fury, was Colonel Rhodes, whom she'd briefly met in a shawarma restaurant after the Battle of New York when he'd turned up to the fight too late. Rhodes knew her true appearance and identity (something that Fury assured her wasn't going to be brought up at the meeting) but she hoped that, given the Colonel's strong friendship with Tony, he wouldn't be revealing it to anyone.

"We know why we're here," a particularly grouchy sounding Army General, a man named Brown, announced, his voice finally drawing the attention away from her.

" _You know who I am, you don't know where I am, and you'll never see me coming_ ," another military figure said sombrely, quoting the final words the Mandarin would always end his video messages with. A number of people shifted uneasily in their seats.

"Well, he's damn right so far," a man in a non-descript grey suit muttered. "We haven't got anywhere close to finding the guy or understanding how he's carrying out these bombings – if we can even call them that when we've found no bomb fragments at any of the sites."

"What other causes could there be for these planned explosions?" a severe looking, white haired woman asked.

The General who had first spoken, Brown, fixed Hermione and Fury with an accusatory stare. "It sounds almost like sorcery to me."

"Not guilty, General" Hermione denied coolly, though her heart rate was definitely increasing. "I'm not the terrorist-type."

There was more shifting at these words, the first she'd spoken, and Hermione assumed it was her accent that had caught them by surprise along with her supposedly calm demeanour.

"We'll have to take your word on that," General Brown replied testily.

"And mine," Fury added forcefully.

"Mine too, sir," Colonel Rhodes spoke up, drawing a number of surprised glances. "On May Fourth, I arrived in New York soon after the battle had taken place, and by all accounts, the Sorceress played a vital role in protecting the city."

General Brown pressed his lips into a tight line. "By all accounts, you say? Well, I'd be interested to hear them, Rhodes, seeing as I've had nothing myself and I know for a fact that President Ellis is still waiting for an official report from Director Fury about events in New York."

"Unlike the rest of you," Fury answered calmly, "I don't answer to the President, General, as you're quite aware and I _certainly_ don't have to answer to you."

"Well, maybe it's time you did," Brown barked back. "S.H.I.E.L.D. have been involved in too many incidents recently with your so-called _Avengers_ heroes. How can we help protect the people of this country when we don't have a clue what's going on?"

"Because if any of you _had_ been involved in the decision making process that day, I'm sure that Midtown would now be nothing but a toxic wasteland, home to the graves of thousands of innocent people," Fury said emotively. "The Avengers stopped the attack in New York with barely a civilian life lost – "

" – And caused millions of dollars' worth of damage," Brown interrupted.

Fury looked like he was trying keep his temper in check. "We are _here_ to talk about the Mandarin. How about we stop squabbling and get back on track?" There was a muttered assent around the table. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is happy to offer its services in bringing this terrorist to justice."

"You don't have a piece of sorcery that can zap him right to us?" Brown asked Hermione sourly.

"Unfortunately not," she replied politely, determined not to let the man get under her skin. "But give me his coordinates and I can be there within five minutes, anywhere in the world."

Plenty of sceptical expressions met this statement.

"She's not showing off," Fury explained. "If we find the Mandarin, The Sorceress will take care of him."

"No," Brown called with a shake of his head. "The Mandarin has all but declared war on America. We need to send out a strong message to reassure people that this country doesn't bow down to terrorists. We can't do that with your foreign sorcery _bullshit_. True as it may be, it's not going to make our citizens feel safe. War Machine will defeat the Mandarin and be seen doing so!"

A number of passionate voices were raised in response to this, both for and against General Brown's edict.

"You consider the reputation of your country to be of greater importance than saving innocent lives?" Hermione asked appalled, her feminine tone standing out against the harsh tones of most of the rooms' occupants and they turned to look at her.

"With all due respect, _Miss London_ ," General Brown sneered, his tone of voice in direct contrast to his words, "this doesn't concern you."

"Well, that's where you're wrong, General," she replied heatedly. "The killing of innocent people, whatever their nationality, _does_ concern me, and you can rest assured that I _will_ be there to fight the Mandarin, whether you want me to or not!" She turned to Fury. "Permission to leave, sir?"

"I think you've made your point," Fury said, looking both amused and impressed. "Permission granted."

Hermione instantly disapparated. "She does damn good dramatic exits, huh?" Fury said to the astonished people. "And she also makes one helluva pumpkin pie."

* * *

"Were all men from the forties idiots or just _you_?"

This wasn't the normal greeting that Steve would receive upon answering a knock at his front door, but given that it came from Natasha Romanoff, he probably shouldn't be surprised.

"I'm sorry?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, it's no use telling me that," she scoffed barging past him.

"No, as in, I'm sorry I don't know what you're talking about," he explained, frowning at her enforced presence. He hadn't seen Romanoff since she'd tried to set him up with…

"Hermione," Natasha explained with a little shrug of her shoulders to emphasise that it should have been obvious what she was referring to. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Steve stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. "I am not talking about this with you."

"Good," Natasha retorted, hands on her hips, "because you're going to listen."

Steve gaped at her audacity. "I think you should leave," he said, hand still on the handle of the door.

" _Three_ weeks," Natasha bit out, ignoring his request. "You haven't spoken to or seen her for _three weeks_."

Steve felt guilt twist in his stomach. "I've been…busy," he mumbled.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and turned around in a slow circle, taking in the spotless apartment and switched on television, before fixing him with a cold expression. "Bullshit. Why are you avoiding her?"

"I'm not – " he began and Natasha gave him such a furious look that he stopped. "What has this got to do with you?" he asked instead.

"Well, I'm the fool who thought that if I knocked your heads together you'd start seeing clearly. Let me explain it for you in case you missed the finer details; you like Hermione and Hermione likes you," she said clearly. "Do you get it now?"

Steve frowned. "It's not a question of me understanding…" he trailed off and Natasha raised her hands in frustration.

"Then what is it? You're not scared, are you?" Her eyes widened. "Oh my God," she said slowly, drawing out each word. "Captain America's scared of asking a girl out on a date!"

Steve flushed at her mocking tone. "There's more to it than that," he muttered.

"Explain it to me," Natasha suggested.

Realising that Romanoff wasn't going to leave anytime soon, Steve finally shut the door with a soft click. He sighed, trying to think of a way to put his thoughts into words. "I don't want to hurt her," he admitted eventually.

"Well, it's a little bit late for that," Natasha retorted.

Steve frowned in concern. "What?"

"Did you think if you just kept away from her for a few weeks, everything would go back to normal?" Natasha asked, shaking her head like he was completely stupid, which he was when it came to women.

"I… don't know." It dawned on him that he'd been running away. He couldn't believe that for the first time in his life, he hadn't turned around and faced something full on and, in the process, he'd hurt someone he cared about.

"Well, it won't. If you don't do something soon, she's not even going to want to be _friends_ with you, let alone anything else."

He _was_ an idiot. He'd never had much experience with girls, but what little he _did_ have, he always managed to screw up. Upsetting Hermione was the last thing he wanted to do and he hated the idea of losing her friendship but…he still wasn't convinced that anything more between them would be a good idea. "She… she deserves better than me."

"Hermione doesn't seem to think so," Natasha argued. "Surely you should let her decide that." Steve stared at her for a moment, his mind a scramble of opposing thoughts and hopes. She seemed to sense his turmoil, for her posture softened slightly and her tone was less aggressive when she asked, "What are you going to do?"

He had to talk to Hermione, there was no doubt about that. But there was somewhere he needed to go first, someone he needed to see to make sense of everything, someone who knew _exactly_ how hopeless he was when it came to women. He walked over to his coffee table and picked up his keys and wallet. "I've got to go," he said hurriedly, escorting Natasha out of his apartment. "I should probably thank you for giving me a kick up the ass but I still haven't forgiven you for causing all this in the first place."

"You're welcome, Cap!" Natasha called after him as he jogged down the hallway.

* * *

Bittersweet.

That's what Steve would describe his emotions as, sitting two feet away from Peggy after all these years. For him, of course, it didn't feel like sixty years but for her… he couldn't imagine what she'd been through or what it was like for her to see him looking no older.

She lived in a retirement home in DC, her care quite rightly paid for by S.H.I.E.L.D. given that she co-founded the organisation. One of the nurses had told him that Peggy suffered from Alzheimer's disease. Upon seeing the confused expression on his face, the nurse had further explained what this meant. She'd also informed him that the rate of deterioration had slowed rapidly in the last year, which was as much as they could hope for.

Steve had considered phoning or visiting Peggy many times since he'd found out that she was still alive but he was concerned at how she'd react to seeing him looking as he did. He needn't have worried though, because as soon as she'd seen him, Peggy had scolded him heartily for not coming to see her sooner. They'd embraced tightly, tears in her eyes, but she assured him that they were of joy.

She proudly showed him the photos of her family and he listened to the stories of her many adventures with the SSR and S.H.I.E.L.D. Although it sounded conceited, he was glad that Peggy had managed to find happiness and fulfilment in her life without him.

"You should be proud of yourself, Peggy," he said when she had momentarily run out of stories to tell.

She smiled at him warmly. "I have lived a life," she agreed but her eyes turned mournful. "My only regret is that you didn't get to live yours." She patted his hand, where he sat next to her at a small dining table. "But there's plenty of time for you yet, no?"

"Sure," he replied with a forced smile.

Her eyes lit up. "In fact, there's a lovely young woman who volunteers here who I think you'd like. Sweet girl; she listens to all my stories from back in the day, well, the ones I can tell, anyway, and she asks much better questions than you!" Peggy teased, eliciting a genuine smile from Steve. "And she makes the best cup of tea going – it's like an elixir!"

"I'll have to take your word for it," he said gently. The last thing he needed was another woman to act like an idiot to.

She looked at him, disappointed, then after a moment of searching in his gaze, gasped in delight. "You've found someone!"

He stared at her, amazed that women could read him so easily. "It's…" he began, then shook his head. "It's complicated."

"Do you like her?"

"Well, yeah."

"And she likes you?"

"I, I think so."

"Then it shouldn't be complicated," Peggy pointed out. When she saw that this did nothing to improve his mood, she squeezed his hand. "What's wrong, Steve?"

"That's the problem," he replied with a frown. "Nothing _is_ wrong, but given what I do, one day it _will_ be and I don't want to put anyone through that." He looked Peggy straight in the eye. "Not again."

"Now you listen here, Steve," she said crossly. "I'm sure this woman, whoever she may be, will not thank you for thinking so little of her. Do you think she wouldn't be strong enough to cope should something happen to you?"

Steve balked at her words. "She's actually one of the toughest people I know," he admitted sheepishly.

Peggy gave him a satisfied nod. "Then it sounds like it's definitely _you_ that we need to work on; no surprises there."

He chuckled, knowing that she was right, as usual.

"Steve, you can't put your life on hold because you're waiting for tragedy to strike at every turn. What happened to you," she paused and Steve could see the unspoken, _to us,_ in her eyes, "was _awful_." Emotion had thickened her voice but she ploughed onwards. "But if you let that shape the way you live the rest of your life, then you might as well have not woken up. Make the most of every moment you have; live your life for all those that we know who couldn't."

They sat in silence for a while, letting her words sink in.

He thought of all the men he knew who didn't make it back from the war; how all of them had deserved this opportunity far more than he did. And what did he do with this second chance? Self-sabotage what could be his one chance of happiness in this century – all because he was worried that he couldn't protect her from whatever might never happen…

Steve just hoped that it wasn't too late for Hermione to forgive him.

"Thank you, Peggy," he said warmly. "You'll always be my favourite girl."

"I should hope not!" she objected with a wide smile, though her eyes became slightly watery. "Otherwise this conversation has been a complete waste of time. Now, come on, tell me all about her. Where did you meet?"

Steve opened his mouth to reply but there was a knock on the door. Peggy sat up straighter.

"Oh, that must be Hermione with my tea. Don't worry, Steve, I won't try and set you two up! Come in!" she called.

"Sorry," Steve said quickly, thinking he must have misheard her. "Did you just say…" He turned as the door was opened and looked on in shock as Hermione came in the room. _His_ Hermione.

She hadn't noticed him yet, concentrating as she was on not spilling the beverage in her hand. "I won't stay long, Peggy, they told me you have company."

"No, it's fine, dear," Peggy replied, oblivious to Steve's astonishment as he remained frozen in place. "Hermione, this is my dear friend, Steve."

Hermione's eyes flew towards him at the name and she nearly dropped the mug in surprise. " _Steve!_ " she gasped.

It was the first time he'd seen her since Natasha had tricked them. After that, he'd tried desperately hard to convince himself he only saw Hermione as a friend but, if anything, she looked ten times lovelier in her simple cotton shorts and red top, the curls falling softly down her back, glowing in the light of the setting sun.

Steve rose, intending to speak to her, but she placed the cup clumsily on the table and practically sprinted from the room.

"That's her, isn't it?" Peggy asked, looking rather surprised, herself. Steve nodded mutely. "Well, don't just stand there; get after her!"

He didn't need telling twice.

The corridor was deserted and he listened for the sound of running footsteps. A distant but familiar crack was all he needed to hear to know that his search would be in vain.

* * *

"Agent Granger, please make your way to these coordinates in Tribeca as soon as possible," Director Fury ordered when she answered his video-call, "AKA _now_."

"What's the situation, sir?" she asked, making a note of the digits he was sending her.

"We're in pursuit of a man suspected of possessing a Chitauri gun. An undercover operative has been shot. The suspect is fleeing the scene in a hijacked cab; we're working on the license plate. He's heading towards Canal Street. If he makes it to the Holland Tunnel, things are going to get messy."

"Yes, sir, I understand," Hermione said, disillusioning herself in preparation.

"Captain Rogers is close by," Fury added and Hermione's spirits plummeted. She was glad that Fury wouldn't be able to distinguish her scowl now that the camouflage spell had been completed. "He's going to do his best to get there and give you a hand."

"That's really not necessary, sir," Hermione protested; she did _not_ want to see Steve when she was working – or at all, for that matter. "The arrival of the great Captain America will only attract more attention from onlookers, putting their lives at risk."

"Well, I suggest you get the job done before he turns up, then," Fury barked back at her, obviously not impressed with her tone of voice.

Hermione fitted her earpiece and apparated from the Triskelion with a louder crack than she normally would; she blamed her unsettled emotions.

"The cab's heading up Church Street," Agent Hill told her, as she emerged on a traffic island between two streets: Church and Sixth Avenue, "but it'll probably take the turning for Sixth to give them a quicker route to the tunnel."

Hermione licked her lips to help her concentrate. It wasn't often that she worked in such close proximity to civilians. She had to apprehend the fugitive without alerting the public to any unusual activity, especially as there was a hostage taxi driver to think of.

"They're two blocks away, moving quickly," Hill continued.

"I see them," Hermione said quietly, raising her wand ready. The cab was weaving speedily between the traffic, angry car horns marking its progress towards her. She prepared to step carefully into the roadway, knowing that it was important to get as close to the fugitive as possible.

When she wasn't in imminent danger of being run over, she leapt in an intercept course with the cab, stopping just short of it and non-verbally cast _Arresto Momentum_ at it. The tyres squealed noisily as the vehicle rapidly reduced its speed. Before it had even come to a complete stop, one of the rear doors opened and a young Caucasian male leapt out, firing indiscriminately over his shoulder as he sprinted down a side street.

Hermione apparated to the other end of the alley so that he was unwittingly running straight towards her, ready to stun him at the last moment, wary that the red light be spotted by others if cast too far away.

He was fifteen feet from her… ten…five.

 _Stupef-_ "Oof!" Hermione was abruptly knocked to the floor, a large weight pinning her down. She was face-to-face with the man she'd been pursuing (not that he could see her properly), and on top of _him_ was Steve, who had tackled the man to the ground, not realising that she was there.

"What the…?" Steve asked in confusion, obviously bemused at why the man appeared to be floating a few inches off the ground.

Hermione flexed her wrist and performed her stunning spell, the man's face dropping onto her shoulder. Steve's eyes widened in understanding.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"It's getting a bit hard to breath down here, Rogers," she wheezed. Steve stood immediately and dragged the man off her, leaving him drooling face down on the ground. Hermione climbed to her feet, ignoring the proffered hand to help her up.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know you were there," he said,

"Yes, well, that was kind of the point of the spell," she answered offhandedly, bending down to retrieve the Chitauri gun. "The suspect and weapon have been detained," she said so that Hill and Fury would hear her.

"Understood. You or Rogers wait there until he can be picked up," Hill answered.

Steve stepped purposefully towards her and she turned away. "No need, tell me the destination and I'll get him there straightaway," she offered.

"Hermione, you can't do everything," Hill rebuked her. "Other people need to earn their wage too."

"Fine," Hermione said, glancing over her shoulder at Steve and tossing him the gun. "You stay, Rogers, I'll go." He reached out and grabbed her arm, something that wasn't easy to do when she was disillusioned.

"I need to talk to you," he said earnestly.

Hermione flushed angrily. How dare he? "Oh, _now_ you want to talk," she replied, trying to prise his fingers away. "Well, guess what? I don't want to talk to you."

The whole situation was so embarrassing that she could barely look him in the eye. It was one thing for him to decide that he didn't want a romantic relationship with her but to shut her out of his life for the better part of a month when she'd thought they were good friends, was just heart-breaking. She'd honestly thought Steve was better than that.

"Hermione, please," he begged, his damn, super-strong fingers not moving one jot, "I know I've been an idiot, just… hear me out."

" _Here_?" she clarified, motioning to the dirty alley. "You want to do this _here_?" Hermione steeled herself. "Fine, spit it out; let's get this conversation over with and then we can both move on." And that's what she wanted more than anything; to put this whole, silly state of affairs behind her.

He paused, seemingly stuck for words now that he had her attention. "Uh…"

"Eloquently put, Captain," she said dryly, trying to free her arm with a strong tug, but he pulled her closer. "What are you doi –" She flinched in shock. "Y-you just kissed my nose," she stammered.

"Sorry," he muttered, sounding embarrassed. "It's kind of hard to find your lips when I can't see you."

Hermione blinked at him for a moment then tapped her head with her wand, reversing the disillusionment charm. "Better?" she asked breathlessly.

"Definitely," was his heated reply.

He made no mistake in finding her lips the second time.

* * *

A/N Happy Birthday Hermione! :)

So, a few things to note. I have borrowed a few lines from _Winter Soldier_ between Peggy and Steve and moved them here. I don't know if his visit to her in that film was really the first time Steve had seen her since waking up, or if their conversation was just a repeated one due to her Alzheimers.

Glad lots of you are in favour of Steve/Hermione! It's probably going to be a couple of weeks before I update again.

Lots of love,

Lil Drop of Magic


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Hello! Thanks for all the reviews, favourites and alerts. It's amazing to have such great support.

* * *

"Honey, calm down," Tony said to Pepper as he came into the bomb site that used to be his kitchen. "You're freaking me out a little bit." He reached out to try and massage her shoulders but she hurried over to the kitchen sink to wash some cranberries.

"I know, I'm sorry," she replied wearily, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead as water splashed everywhere. "I just want everything to be perfect for our first Thanksgiving together."

"Well, if you wanted 'perfect', you should have called the caterers like I suggested," he reminded her, dipping his little finger into the gravy boat and helping himself to a little pre-taste. He choked slightly on the overtly salty flavour but, luckily, Pepper didn't notice.

"Thanks," she muttered sarcastically, "that's very reassuring."

"It's fine, look: Granger's probably never had a Thanksgiving dinner before, it's unlikely Banner had much time while hiding from the world and the Cap's taste buds doubtless got frozen off while he was sucking ice cubs for sixty years. They're just going to be grateful they've got people to share the day with."

"Well, that _is_ why we invited them, isn't it? So they wouldn't be alone."

"Er, _you_ were the one who invited them," he pointed out.

"Is everything going OK in there?" she asked, ignoring his comment. "Have you made sure everyone's got a drink? Is Hermione here yet?"

"Yes, yes and no," he replied, raising a finger for each answer.

"All right, well, go back in and be a good host. I've got this."

Tony picked up a cloth and dabbed quickly at the blackened turkey, which had somehow managed to catch fire without Pepper noticing. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, kissing her on the cheek. On his way back to the others, he paused and took out his phone.

"D'you think you could pick up some gravy on your way over here?" Tony asked Hermione as soon as she answered his call.

"And a Happy Thanksgiving to you, too," she answered with a frown.

"You're not American, it doesn't count," he claimed. "So, gravy, yes or no?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "What type of gravy?" she sighed.

"One that doesn't taste like I've licked the inside of a salt shaker," Tony replied instantly, shuddering. "But you've got to do it in stealth mode – Pepper can't know."

"Fine," she agreed. "Sneaky, un-salty gravy. Anything else?"

"You're already bringing dessert, right?" She nodded. "Then how about a turkey?" he asked. "Preferably one that's already cooked with all the trimmings to go with it."

Hermione stared at him. "You can't be serious."

"Hey, well, it'll be fine if you like your food on the black side…"

"It can't be that bad," she said doubtfully.

"I just had to put the turkey out. Pepper didn't even notice it was on fire."

Hermione understandably looked worried and then she sighed. "She's going to kill us if she ever finds out."

"I don't care," Tony claimed. "She's been working so hard on this – I don't want her to be disappointed when our guests die of food poisoning."

"That's actually quite sweet of you, Tony." He wondered why she sounded so surprised. "Speaking of your guests, did everyone get there OK?"

"Yeah, Banner and Rogers arrived this morning and Rhodey came over twenty minutes ago."

"Colonel Rhodes is going to be there?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I haven't seen him since…" she shook her head. "Never mind. Try and stall Pepper for me and I'll get there as soon as I can; I've got a couple of things to tie up here. Just don't expect any miracles – food's not that straight forward for me to work with."

Tony clicked his tongue in disappointment. "And you call yourself a Sorceress…"

She gave him an angry look and then ended the call.

Tony took a couple of steps towards the lounge but a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned sharply, heart in mouth; his previously concealed repulsor blast ready to detonate, but he powered it down almost instantly when he saw who it was: Happy.

His soon-to-be-ex bodyguard gave him a covert thumbs-up and then continued walking in what Tony presumed Happy thought was a stealthy fashion.

Tony sighed and walked over to the door.

"What are you doing here?" Tony asked, his tone of voice clearing expressing that Happy should _not_ be there.

"Hey boss," Happy greeted, coming forwards and pushing past Tony to enter the mansion. "You'll be pleased to know the outer area is secure. I just need to do a detailed sweep of the inside now."

"You're _not_ staying for dinner," Tony said, following after him.

"Dinner? What dinner?" Happy asked innocently with a small shrug of his shoulders, as he made a beeline for the kitchen. "Oh my God, it's Thanksgiving!" Happy cried at the sight of the questionable feast Pepper had almost finished preparing. "I totally forgot!"

"Happy," Pepper said warmly, polite as usual despite the bodyguard's intrusion. "It's nice to see you. Have you got any plans for dinner? Do you want to join us?" she asked, ignoring Tony's extravagant throat slicing gestures.

Happy gasped dramatically and shook his head modestly. "Oh, _no_. No, I couldn't do that."

"Are you sure?" Pepper checked, vigorously mashing some potatoes.

"He's sure," Tony chipped in, trying to drag Happy away.

"You know what," Happy said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "Yes, yes I will, I'll join you." He grinned round at them.

"I need another drink," Tony muttered.

"You guys, this is going to be the _best_ Thanksgiving ever," Happy said excitedly.

"Really?" Tony deadpanned, not feeling the same enthusiasm.

"Of course!" Happy stated and then gestured to himself, nodding. "I'm _Happy_ … today's _Thanksgiving;_ we're going to have a _Happy_ Thanksgiving!" He looked around at them as though this was the greatest play on words known to man.

"Oh, _God_ , do I need another drink," Tony muttered.

He was about to turn away when Pepper walked towards Happy with the bowl of potatoes and held out a small spoon to him. "Happy, come here, I want you to try this."

Happy accepted the spoon eagerly and Tony shot him a very stern, warning look, which he thankfully didn't miss.

"It takes good, right?" Pepper asked hopefully.

Tony continued to stare meaningfully at Happy and mimed strangling him. "Mmmm," Happy moaned, very unconvincingly to Tony's ears, but Pepper seemed to buy it. "It _sure_ does," he said, swallowing the potatoes with some difficulty. "You know, actually," he said, clearing his throat, "thinking about it, I'm not sure I can stay for long."

"Oh, how come?" Pepper enquired, putting the potatoes on the counter so that she could no doubt make another part of their meal inedible.

"I- I actually have this… thing," Happy said weakly.

Oh, no. There was no way Tony was going to let Happy off that easily. "He's joking."

Happy shook his head quickly. "I'm not joking."

"He's staying," Tony argued.

"Really?" Happy asked, looking concerned.

" _Really,_ " Tony confirmed and then added fiercely under his breath so that Pepper couldn't hear, "You are going to stay, you are going to eat and you are going to _like_ it."

Happy nodded mutely.

"Tony, why don't you introduce Happy to your friends?" Pepper suggested.

Happy's faced perked up at the idea. "You've got friends here?"

"Please," Tony scoffed, escorting Happy out of the kitchen before he let something slip about Pepper's cooking, "don't pretend they're not the reason you invited yourself round in the first place."

Happy shrugged, not denying the accusation. "Hey, I start working for Pepper next week. This might be my only chance to meet them."

Just before they caught up with the others, Tony held a hand in front of Happy's chest, making him pause. "Just… don't embarrass me. Try and be cool – don't start waving your panties around and declaring your undying love. You'll freak them out."

Happy nodded seriously. "It's fine," he said tilting his head from side to side. "I'm cool…I'm cool."

To Happy's credit, he wasn't _quite_ as cringe-worthy as Tony had feared he would be. Happy already knew Rhodey pretty well, so it was only Steve and Bruce who were a little taken aback by Happy's… _Happy_ ness.

It actuality, Tony found he was glad that Happy was there yacking away because it meant that _he_ didn't have to talk to his fellow Avengers. It wasn't that he didn't like them – he got on very well with Bruce, and Steve was OK when he wasn't being ultra-serious, but having them here was bringing back memories of New York. And that was one area that Tony didn't like to go. He'd already had to take a couple of bizarre trips outside to get a bit of ocean air – something he'd never had to do the entire time he'd lived there, and that was without them even bringing up what happened. Thankfully, it was like there'd been an unspoken agreement between them all that past battles against Asgardian psychos weren't to be mentioned on Turkey Day.

Happy, though, hadn't got the memo.

"So, can you guys give me any hints, you know, about what went on in Manhattan?" Happy asked, looking between Bruce and Steve. "Tony keeps coming out with this bullshit line about it being 'classified', like that's ever stopped him before."

"I'm sorry, Mr Hogan," Steve answered politely, "but that's true."

"It's all right, you can tell me," Happy insisted. "Security's my game. I mean, look at me, have you ever seen anyone more trustworthy?"

"Hey, Happy, I heard you've got a new job," Rhodey called, taking one for the team.

Mercifully, the doorbell rang a few minutes later.

"Someone else is coming?" Happy asked excitedly, heading for the door.

Tony would have happily left Granger to experience the joy of meeting Happy by herself, but their digestive well-being was at stake.

There was a gasp from Happy as he saw her open the door, purse slung over her shoulder. "No," he breathed, looking wide-eyed between Tony and Hermione. "You're not… she's not… is she?"

"If you want people to understand you, a few more words might be useful," Tony advised sardonically.

"Is this vision of loveliness the Sorceress?" Happy whispered, staring at Granger avidly.

"Well, _I'm_ looking at her, I'm not sure who _you're_ looking at," Tony retorted, more to make fun of Happy than insult Granger, who did actually look like she'd put more effort into her appearance than normal.

Noticing his stare, Granger looked at Happy in concern. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, good God, she's British," Happy muttered, looking like he might weep with joy. "This day is just perfection." He held out a hand. "Hi, Happy Hogan, it's a pleas-"

"No time," Tony interrupted, making a grab for Granger. "Happy, this is Hermione Granger. Granger, Happy. Let's go."

"See you later, Happy," she called as she let herself be pulled along.

"Please tell me that you've been able to work your magic and there's not just a solitary turkey leg in your bag," Tony said quietly as they approached the kitchen.

"No, it's OK," she replied. "Keep Pepper busy and I'll do a switching spell with the food that's in my bag – it's a lot bigger in there than it looks. Just promise me that you'll tell her the truth once we've all gone; I don't want to lie to her."

Tony made a noise of disgust. "Seriously? Can't you just be devious for once and let a lie stand?"

"I don't like lying," she mumbled looking uncomfortable.

"Then being a secret agent was a really sensible career choice, wasn't it?" he muttered back as they entered the rather smoky kitchen. "Hey, look who's just turned up!" he called cheerfully to Pepper.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Hermione," Pepper greeted warmly, giving her a hug, before pulling away rapidly. "Oh, shoot, I've just got cranberry sauce on your lovely dress."

Granger smiled reassuringly. "It's fine, I can spell it away no problem."

"Oh, good," Pepper sighed. "I wish it was that simple for me! I look an absolute mess."

"I'm sure Granger can clean you up too," Tony suggested, sensing an opportunity.

Pepper turned to Granger. "Would that be OK?"

The other woman nodded. "Why don't you go to the bathroom and wash off what's on your skin and then I'll do your dress."

Pepper grinned trotting off to wash up. "Great. I'll be back in a minute." She paused just before she left and turned back with a stern expression. "Don't touch anything though, I'm just about to serve up."

Granger held her hands up. "We promise we won't touch a thing. Right, Tony?"

He nodded. "I swear."

The look of trepidation on Happy's face as he sat down to eat the lunch that Pepper had cooked was wickedly amusing. Considering Happy had forced his company on them in the first place, Tony thought he was completely justified in not reassuring him that Granger had successfully switched everything on the table. She'd even gone so far as altering the appearance of the food so that Pepper wasn't suspicious that it looked un-scorched and, well, appetising. But, as they'd promised, they hadn't 'touched' a single morsel of it.

Tony held his glass aloft, champagne fizzing merrily inside. "Happy Thanksgiving!" he toasted, the words echoed by their guests and they all clinked their glasses together. He noticed that Granger and Rhodey did so with less warmth than they gave everyone else. He was mildly curious why but he honestly couldn't be bothered to ask them about it.

"It smells delicious," Bruce complimented Pepper, although he was giving the food a cautionary look due to its appearance.

"Yeah, it does," Happy mumbled, frowning in confusion.

Tony carved the turkey, trying not to laugh at most people's polite request for a small portion.

Once they'd seen Granger dig in quite happily and not start choking, the others took their own tentative bites. In no time at all, the compliments started flowing and Pepper beamed at him.

"And you said we should've got caterers in," she whispered teasingly and he kissed her before his mouth could come up with a lie to spout.

"Guys, come on, we're eating," Happy objected between mouthfuls. "Keep it classy like Steve and Hermione over here – you don't see them making out at the dinner table."

There was a moment of silence as everyone except Happy paused in their eating.

"Steve and Hermione aren't together, Happy," Pepper corrected quietly, looking embarrassed.

"What, you think I don't recognise the look of love when I see it?" Happy continued, deludedly so as far as Tony was aware. "It's written all over their faces. And don't think I didn't notice you squeezing his hand under the table earlier," he said to Hermione, whose cheeks had gone pink at the accusation. "At least, I hope that's what you were squeezing."

Tony's face creased in confusion and then he laughed. "No way. Granger said _I_ was too old for her," he recalled, ignoring Pepper's attempts to make him shut up. "Rogers is old enough to be her great-grandfather!"

" _Tony!_ " Pepper said forcefully between gritted teeth and he looked at her, bemused as to why nobody else was laughing. She stared at him, trying to communicate some sort of message with just her eyes and Tony turned back to look at Granger and Rogers, wondering why they hadn't jumped in to put Happy straight. They both looked embarrassed, there no doubt about that, but as Tony watched, their hands sought each other's out and their fingers weaved together.

"Oh…" Tony said shortly. "Well, this is awkward."

"No," Happy corrected. "It's awesome. Can you imagine how kick-ass their babies will be?"

* * *

"Tony, do you have any idea what time it is?" Hermione murmured sleepily, having only opened her eyes long enough to find the button to answer his call, before plonking her head back down on the pillow.

"I can't see you," he muttered. "Why's it all dark? Are you in a movie theatre?"

" _No_ ," she stressed through gritted teeth. "It's nearly five o'clock in the morning here. I'm in bed."

"Right, whatever," he replied, not sounding particularly bothered. "Wait – Rogers isn't there too, is he?"

"What?" she yawned. "No, he's not – not that it's any of your business."

"I just thought I'd check; if you two were in the middle of something that would be really awkward."

"Hmmm, awkward, imagine that," she muttered. "Is there a reason for this conversation or do you simply want to deprive me of sleep?"

"I have a request to make, Granger," he informed her. "Business partner to business partner, superhero to fellow superhero, dare I even say it, from friend to friend."

She frowned. "What sort of friend doesn't even call me by my first name?"

"I told you; more than two syllables is too many for me to handle on a daily basis."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, knowing that she was unlikely to be going back to sleep anytime soon. "What's the request?" she asked heavily, aware that it was likely to be a big one.

"I want you to destroy my suit with your magic."

Hermione sat up and grabbed the phone, looking at him in concern. Her gaze took in his tired, dishevelled appearance and how it contrasted with his alert eyes. His arms were moving out of shot and she wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to do two things at once, while _still_ talking to her. " _Why_?" she asked suspiciously.

"Does there have to be a reason?" he argued defensively.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She was too tired for this. "J.A.R.V.I.S. what's the reason?"

"Mr Stark would like to investigate ways of defending his suits from your spells," the computer system replied automatically.

"Traitor," Tony muttered, before pausing whatever he was doing and looking at her. The seriousness of his expression made her shiver. "You've completely got my number and I don't like it," he admitted.

"Tony," she sighed, brushing some sleep-tousled hair out of her eyes. "I understand that my magic might make you feel vulnerable, especially given what happened with Loki's sceptre, but you know that's not an option."

"And what if something like that happens again?" Tony queried. "What if we can't stop you?"

"That's not going to happen," she reassured him gently. "And if, by some bizarre twist of fate, it does; Steve will be able to defeat me."

"Oh, yeah? What does lover-boy know that I don't?"

"Don't be childish, Tony," she chided.

"Look, I don't see what the big deal is. I don't want to harness your spells and create a magical suit, I just want to stop you being so effective against me. It's a sensible precaution."

"OK, let's pretend that I give you the chance to develop technology against me – if that's even possible. What happens if that tech gets stolen by someone not very nice and I then can't use my magic to defeat them?"

"I seem to remember you raising this point one of the first times we met."

"That's because it's a highly valid one, and, as I said then, you've had plenty of experience of your technology coming back to bite you in the behind."

"God, you're such a prude," he said scathingly. "Just say, 'ass', Granger."

"Don't get tetchy with me – _you're_ the one that woke me up!"

"And I'm now very much regretting it."

Hermione tried to breathe calmingly through her nose. "I'm sorry, Tony but the answer is no. It's took risky for me."

"Uh-huh, whatever. See you around, Granger," he said then abruptly ended the call.

Hermione flopped back onto the pillow with a groan, eyes staring blankly in the gloom. Her brief conversation with Tony had left her concerned. His agitated demeanour was so out of character and she had a feeling that he hadn't been sleeping well. She deliberated for a moment and then with a sigh, yanked the duvet off herself and clambered out of bed.

Three minutes later, she apparated into Tony's workshop.

He didn't look particularly impressed to see her. "I thought we agreed that you were never going to just pop straight in here."

"Courtesy went out the window after you woke me, insulted me and then hung up," she replied coolly. The workshop was in a bit of a state. Various pieces of machinery lay cluttered around the room and the floor was littered with odd bits of wire and metal.

"You obviously missed the tone of the conversation then because that wasn't an invitation for you to come over," he muttered, fiddling with something that looked like the arm of his next suit.

"I've brought you an early Christmas present," she said matter-of-factly, holding out a vial containing a purple liquid.

He looked up, reluctant curiosity on his face. "What is it?"

"A dreamless sleep potion," she explained. "If you drink this, you'll get about eight hours of blissful nothing."

Tony stared at it. "And, er, what makes you think I'd want something like that?" he asked, trying to be offhand.

"Tony," she said softly. He looked up at her, his eyes struggling to focus on her for a moment and he frowned.

"You look like you want to hug me," he said disapprovingly. "Please don't."

"Take the potion and go to bed," she instructed calmly. "It'll make you feel better and I know because I took it every night for about a month after New York, gradually decreasing the dose until I could comfortably sleep without it."

Tony wiped a weary hand over his eyes. "No dreams?"

"I promise," Hermione replied. Seeing the relief on Tony's face, she felt guilty that she hadn't thought to offer him some potion earlier. It had been over six months since they'd fought Loki. She dreaded to think how long he'd been suffering without telling anyone. "J.A.R.V.I.S. have you got somewhere I can store some of these so that Tony can only get one each night?" she asked.

"Certainly, Miss Granger."

"You still don't trust me not to exploit it, huh?" Tony said as he got to his feet, stretching the muscles in his back.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Would _you_?"

He shrugged, conceding her point.

She went to the cabinet that J.A.R.V.I.S. promised he'd keep sealed from Tony, and took a dozen similar phials out of her expanded pocket. "I'll give you enough until I get back from Australia."

Tony looked at her in surprise. "Why you going out there?"

"It's where my parents live," she answered, shutting the compartment and turning back to face him. "We're a little, um, _estranged_ , but Steve's convinced me it's time to patch things up."

That hadn't been one of their more pleasant conversations but Hermione recognised it as a key one in their relationship. When Steve had asked her about her family, it had been difficult for her to trust him with knowing about something so personal. Altering her parents' memories and convincing them to start a new life in Australia was a decision made of love and sacrifice. There had been no way she was going to let them be vulnerable to Voldemort's campaign of terror and she'd simply done what she must to keep them safe. Steve had understood that (although she hadn't gone into detail about the Second Wizard War with him) but he'd been surprised that four years had passed since then and she still hadn't sought out her parents to return their memories to them. Hermione had argued that she wanted to make sure that it was safe before she tried to bring them home, that Voldemort's followers were truly gone. Then, after a bit more discussion and a few tears on her part, she eventually revealed that she was scared; scared that they would be angry at her for what she'd done, for making them forget her. Steve had embraced her tightly, reassuring her that, if they loved her as much as she did them, they would understand. She'd woken the next morning, still in his arms, the both of them having fallen asleep together on his couch. She hadn't felt so content in a very long time.

"He going with you?" Tony asked sleepily, interrupting her thoughts. Now that he'd resigned himself to going to bed, he seemed about to fall asleep on the spot.

"Yes." Which was good because she didn't think she'd have the strength to go on her own.

"Hmm," Tony hummed approvingly. "I'm happy for you, kid."

"Thank you, Tony," she replied with a smile, knowing that he'd never normally show any opinion on the matter.

"Cute PJs," he muttered as he shuffled past her to ascend the stairs. "Wait…" he squinted at the clothes underneath her jacket. "Are those decorated in little Captain America shields?"

Hermione grinned. "Natasha bought them for me as a joke for my birthday, but they're actually really comfortable."

Tony frowned at her. "I find that incredibly disturbing…"

* * *

A/N Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. The Thanksgiving scene is one of my favourites in the whole series! As you can tell, we are leading right into Iron Man 3 now; the Mandarin awaits!

Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Hello! Just a reminder that I have absolutely no claims to Iron Man 3 and therefore a decent chunk of dialogue in this chapter is borrowed! I don't go into _huge_ detail about the back story of the plot because otherwise it would slow things down too much. Hope that doesn't make it difficult to follow...

* * *

"You have a death wish, don't you?" Granger asked angrily as she let herself into the workshop – through the door this time.

"Your navigation is off; this isn't Australia," Tony pointed out, ignoring her as he fiddled with the Mark 42. J.A.R.V.I.S. was currently compiling a report on the Mandarin for him and then Tony was going to find that son of a bitch.

"Fury pulled rank and cancelled our trip due to the increased Mandarin activity," she grumbled. "And I'm glad he did now that you've personally invited him round; makes my job a lot easier."

"I thought he was Rhodey's responsibility," Tony argued. He already knew that the military wanted to keep Granger out of it, Rhodes had told him as much when they'd met the other day, which only went to prove how stupid bureaucracy was, as if he needed reminding.

"Does it matter as long as he's stopped?" she shrugged.

Tony nodded approvingly, finally sparing her a glance. "So you're here to help as well as chastise?" He'd promised the Mandarin that the Pentagon was not a part of his threat, but seeing as Granger was being excluded from their operation, he didn't feel he was being deceptive by having her join him – not that he cared what the Mandarin thought.

" _Mostly_ chastise," she allowed. "And also to try and convince you to leave."

"Nope," he said instantly, popping the 'p'.

"Tony, we don't have any idea how The Mandarin is carrying out these bombings; there's no warning, just devastation. You saw what happened to Happy," she said, her tone softening slightly, and Tony frowned, not wanting to think about his friend lying badly injured in hospital. "I'm really sorry that he got caught up in all this but how can you be sure that you can defend yourself?"

"I can't leave after I've just challenged him, Granger."

"Is this about your ego?" she accused, hand on her hip.

"No! Look, this is _my_ house and I'm in control. If we go out there, I can't protect Pepper as well."

"Pepper?" she questioned and then her eyes widened. "Pepper's _here?_ "

"Yeah," he replied but he knew Pepper wasn't happy about it.

"What's _wrong_ with you both?" Granger asked appalled, turning to hurry up the stairs. She paused at the doorway and shot him an annoyed look. "Oh, and if you thought my Captain America pyjamas were weird, don't even get me started on that giant bunny."

"The Mandarin database is complete, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced as Tony frowned at her. What was so bad about his Christmas gift to Pepper?

He spent the next few minutes sifting through what J.A.R.V.I.S. had found for him including investigating a digital reconstruction of the bomb site at the Chinese Theatre. He'd just decided that he was going to take a trip to Tennessee to do some digging around, when there was another unwelcome guest at the door.

Given that he'd just sent an international terrorist his home address, he donned his latest Iron Man suit before ascending the stairs.

Granger met him on her way down from the upper floor, with a big bag over her shoulder and an even angrier expression than before.

"Unsurprisingly, it turns out that Pepper _isn't_ as insane as you," she huffed and then paused when she was blocked by the sizeable toy bunny at the foot of the stairway.

Tony's attention was taken by the woman who had just walked through the front door.

"Right there's fine," Tony said at her approach, holding up a finger and she waited expectantly. He recognized her as Maya Hansen, a biological DNA coder whom he'd seen in the millennium with. He retracted his mask. "You're not the Mandarin. Are you?" She didn't answer. " _Are_ you?"

"You don't remember," Maya chuckled, looking distinctly unimpressed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Don't take it personally," Granger called, having finally managed to overcome the bunny. "I doubt he can remember what he had for breakfast."

Tony scowled her and then realised that he _couldn't_ remember.

"Gluten-free waffles, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. provided.

"That's right," Tony recalled. Granger and Maya looked at each other curiously, each trying to figure out who the other was.

Maya caved first and returned her gaze to Tony. "OK, look, I need to be alone with you, someplace not here. It's urgent."

Granger raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's convenient because Pepper and I are just leaving."

"Er, no, she's not," Tony objected.

The second of Pepper's bags dropped to the floor behind them. "Tony!" she called. "Hermione's taking me somewhere safe."

"No, she's _not_ ," he repeated, getting frustrated as Granger made to grab the second case. "Leave it," he ordered but she ignored him.

"Is there someone else there?" Pepper asked, her voice echoing down. "I heard the doorbell."

Tony stepped out of his suit now that the immediate threat of danger was a false alarm. "Yeah, it's Maya Hansen," he replied, turning away from the victorious look on Maya's face. "Old botanist pal that I used to know… barely…"

He took Maya to the side as Granger went to help Pepper get past the bunny. "Please don't tell me there's a twelve-year-old kid waiting in the car that I've never met," he said quietly.

"He's thirteen," Maya corrected and Tony flinched. "No, I need your help," she continued.

"But, what for?" he asked, when he'd recovered from her joke. "Why now?"

"Because I read the papers and, frankly, I don't think you'll last the week," she said matter-of-factly.

Why did no one have faith in him? "I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry," Pepper said, coming over with Granger in tow. "With Happy in the hospital, I didn't know we were expecting guests – "

"We weren't," Tony cut in.

" – and old girlfriends."

"She's not really –" Tony muttered.

"No, not really" Maya agreed . "I… It was just one night."

"Yep," Tony confirmed, hoping that Pepper wasn't mad.

She smiled at him sweetly. "That's how you did it, isn't it?" she with false pride.

Granger cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to interrupt this… whatever it is… but we should get going."

"No," Tony said firmly.

"Yes, and you're coming with us," Pepper argued, looking at him expectantly. "Right, Hermione?"

Granger looked awkwardly between them. "I can't _make_ Tony come. I mean, I _could_ , quite easily, but I won't. It's his own moronic decision to make."

Pepper sighed but still looked determined. "Well, _you_ might not make him, but I will. We are leaving _immediately_ and _indefinitely_."

"That's a great idea," Maya said. "How about I help you put the stuff in the trunk?"

"Oh, um, we weren't going to travel by car," Granger muttered as Tony again voiced his objection.

Pepper turned on him, indicating Granger and Maya's desire to leave. "You see, this is how normal people act."

"I can't protect you there!" he argued, beginning to get more than a little frustrated.

"But _Hermione_ can," Pepper pointed out.

"Is… is that normal?" Maya asked, pointing to Pepper's large Christmas present and Granger smirked in amusement

"Yes, this is normal!" Tony yelled at Maya, his temper finally getting the better of him. "It's a big bunny, relax about it!"

"Calm down!" Pepper chided him, holding up her hands.

"I got this for you!" he said, referring to the bunny.

"I'm aware of that," she replied calmly.

"You still haven't even told me you liked it!" he objected.

"I _don't_ like it," she replied. "Would _you_ like it?" Pepper asked, turning to Granger.

She started at being drawn into the conversation again. "Oh, well, normally, I wouldn't get involved in another couple's argument – "

"Then, _don't_ ," Tony urged.

" – but that rabbit is just _embarrassing_ , Tony," Granger finished, not looking particularly apologetic.

" _See_ ," Pepper emphasised. "Now, please tell Tony what Steve got _you_ for your birthday."

Granger pulled back the sleeve of her jacket and lifted her arm, looking guilty.

"You want a wrist covered in scrap?" Tony asked disbelievingly, scowling at the offending item circling Granger's wrist.

"It's a charm bracelet," Pepper corrected hotly. "They fill it with memories and tokens that are important to them."

"That's nauseating," he retorted.

"Guys," Maya called but the others ignored her.

"No, it's beautiful and it sums up their relationship," Pepper argued. "What does _this_ say about ours?" she asked, pointing to the bunny.

"Can we, um," Maya tried again.

"What?" Tony asked irritably, glancing at her.

Maya was staring at the TV. The news channel that was on the screen was broadcasting live from a helicopter hovering over his mansion. "Do we need to worry about that?" she asked, pointing to a missile that was heading right for them.

Granger gasped, dropping Pepper's bags and taking out her wand at the same time. She waved it, a misty, silver barrier starting to emerge from it. The missile hit and the room exploded around them. They were all thrown backwards by the blast, but probably not as forcefully as they would have done without Granger's partial shield. Before he hit the ground, Tony used his new tech to summon his suit and encase Pepper so that she'd land safely. He, himself, landed rather forcefully against the wall and sunk, winded, to the ground.

"I'll take care of whatever that was, you get everyone out!" Granger yelled through the smoke before disappearing.

Tony slumped there, dazed for a moment. God, that was so close to being a disaster. He could see Maya stirring on the floor a few yards away and he was relieved that it looked like they were going to be OK.

Granger's barrier had forced the impact of the explosion upwards and large cracks appeared in the ceiling above them. He flinched as a large chunk fell towards him, braced for its impact, but it never came. Pepper was crouched over him in the suit, protecting him.

"I got you," she said, as the mask lifted away.

"I got you first," he countered. More of the ceiling fell around them and Tony decided that maybe it would be best to leave after all. "Like I said, we can't stay here." They scrambled to their feet, hurrying across the room to get Maya. Three loud explosions boomed in succession around them. They seemed to be external detonations though, because the mansion only shook slightly.

Tony helped Maya to her feet and the three of them stumbled over to the exit, Tony showing Pepper how to use the repulsor blast to smash the window.

"W-where's the other girl?" Maya stuttered as they got into the relative safety of the fresh air.

"Don't worry about her," Tony said, summoning the suit off Pepper and back onto himself.

"Hermione can take care of herself," Pepper added breathlessly as another boom echoed in the air along with bursts of machine gun fire.

"Tony, please tell me you're out?" Granger's breathless voice echoed in his ear and he was immensely glad that she was wearing her earpiece. "These things can see me, they must have thermal imaging. I can't defend the mansion _and_ take these things out at the same time."

"We're clear," Tony responded quickly.

"Good. J.A.R.V.I.S, you're free to see me too," she ordered.

"Running the 'Sorceress Sight', protocol now, Miss Granger," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied, which was the program that temporarily neutralised their agreement not to pick up data about her.

"I'm on my way." Tony promised. He braced himself to fly off but the suit didn't respond. "J.A.R.V.I.S. where's my flight power?" Tony barked.

"I'm working on it, sir. This is a prototype," the computer system reminded him.

Damn, he wasn't going to be much help to Granger without his flight but he couldn't let her face this all on her own; he had no choice but to go back inside and fight these bastards where he could actually see them. Not to mention that his presence near Pepper and Maya was only going to put them in further danger.

" _Tony!_ _No!_ " he heard Pepper scream after him as he re-entered his ruined home. Explosions erupted all around him, blasting him off his feet. He assumed that Granger had started going on the offensive instead, which left his home rather vulnerable.

He tried to fire his munitions at the three highly weaponised helicopters he could see through his destroyed windows, but a number of errors and warning signs flashed before his eyes. "Sir, the suit is not combat ready," J.A.R.V.I.S. told him. Tony sighed. He really wasn't doing well. Bullets started peppering the ground all around him so he threw himself behind a girder for protection as the floor sloped alarmingly. A large portion of his floor gave way before his eyes and he re-evaluated the cleverness of his plan to trap himself inside a building that was at great risk of falling into the ocean, while he was wearing a malfunctioning suit.

He risked a glance outside and saw that only two helicopters now remained. What had happened to the third, he had no idea, but he assumed that Granger had taken care of it, even though J.A.R.V.I.S. was showing no sign of her.

Tony yanked open one of the weapon portions of his suit and took out a small missile of his own. He launched it out of the window and sent a repulsor blast after it, only noticing too late that J.A.R.V.I.S. was showing Granger flying right next to the helicopter he'd aimed at. Tony couldn't see her with his own eyes because she'd camouflaged herself, but J.A.R.V.I.S' thermal imaging showed her get blasted backwards as it detonated, and collide heavily with the third chopper. She plummeted to the water below, seemingly unconscious.

He took a split second to make his decision.

As he dived into the ocean after her, he narrowly avoided the destroyed helicopter as it crashed into his mansion. Tony reasoned with himself that it hadn't been a good idea to stay in there regardless.

"Find her J.A.R.V.I.S." Tony ordered as he speared through the water. "And fix my flight power!"

Great slabs of his home whizzed past him to the ocean's depths as he tried to pull himself through the gloomy water.

"Miss Granger is forty-three feet away," J.A.R.V.I.S showed him. "Flight power has been restored."

"Finally!" he muttered. "Let's go get her." He propelled himself through the water, having to make a drastic alteration of course at one point when one of his beloved sports cars suddenly crashed into the water in front of him.

J.A.R.V.I.S's sensors showed Hermione's body signature and Tony quickly grabbed her around the waist before heading to the surface at full speed even as the water started seeping through cracks in his suit.

"Mass incoming, sir!" J.A.R.V.I.S warned urgently, his scans showing a huge partial collapse of the mansion. Tony cursed, altering course to avoid getting crushed. His foot snagged on a large cable, the weight of the connected concrete dragging them back down. Panic started to settle in his chest and he was finding it hard to breathe. He _had_ to get Granger to the surface soon otherwise he'd have no chance in reviving her.

Tony propelled himself downwards to unhook his suit and then cut a diagonal path up and away from the debris and the mansion. He shot up into the air, disappearing behind the clouds.

"J.A.R.V.I.S, help me through this," he instructed as he flipped over in the air so Granger's back was resting on his chest.

"Allow me, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S offered and the arms of the suit moved to the computer system's orders, compressing her chest a few times. "You'll have to do this bit, sir." J.A.R.V.I.S. said, flipping them over again, one hand scooped around her back supportively, and the other closing her nasal passages. His mask shifted upwards. "Seal your mouth over Miss Granger's and blow twice, firmly and steadily." Any qualms Tony had about this instruction were immediately pushed aside when he considered this was all his fault. He did as instructed, praying that he wasn't making any errors. They turned over once more and J.A.R.V.I.S repeated the compressions.

Granger's chest heaved and she spat out a good deal of sea water. Tony felt himself slump in relief. She lay back against him with a soft thump.

Now that he wasn't fighting off all manner of threats and the adrenaline was starting to wane, darkness was starting to creep into his vision. Maybe he'd hit his head a lot harder than he'd thought…

* * *

She was cold.

That was the first thing Hermione became aware of.

Why was she this icy? It might be the end of December but she never let her apartment get this cold. And _what_ was up with this headache?

Hermione opened her eyes blearily and stared up at a completely unfamiliar wooden ceiling. She sat up with a start, nearly bumping heads with the Iron Man suit that was seated next to her.

"Tony? What the… Where are we?"

He didn't respond. Hermione saw that the light on its chest was out and she realised that it was just an empty suit. Looking around, she saw that she was in a cluttered, wooden garage, seemingly alone and she tried to put the sequences of events back together again. She'd been fighting the Mandarin's forces at Tony's mansion and then…? The only impression she had after that was the bone-deep chill she was experiencing and… snow?

Looking down at herself, Hermione assumed that Tony had covered her with the blanket and she blushed when she realised that he'd changed her clothes too. She could see a number of harsh grazes on her arms and her face felt sore – not to mention her horribly tender throat.

She searched around for her wand and jacket, finding them on the desk, and went about fixing her injuries. She also found a note that was written in Tony's handwriting, welcoming her to Rose Hill, Tennessee, informing her that he'd gone sightseeing and he'd left a street name for her. Next to the note was an evening edition of a local newspaper and she read the headline in shock; _MANDARIN ATTACK: STARK PRESUMED DEAD._ She read the article quickly, letting it fill in a couple of the blanks in her memory but how or why the two of them had gone from Malibu to Rose Hill, she had no idea.

Judging by the damp, sodden clothes, waterlogged phone and sore throat, she assumed that she'd ended up in the ocean and had to be revived, but there were still so many questions and only one person who could answer them.

Considering her phone was out of operation, she sent her otter patronus to Steve with a message reassuring him that she and Tony were alright but there was more work for her to do yet. Then, after casting a heating charm on both herself and her jacket and modifying the borrowed clothes so they fit her more comfortably, she stepped out into the chilly night.

It wasn't difficult for her to find the street that Tony had noted down but she wasn't expecting to see him stagger out of it and slump suddenly to his knees in the snow. The young boy that came racing after him also took her by surprise.

"What the hell was that?" the boy asked as Tony scooped up some snow and pressed it into his eyes.

"That's just what I was wondering," Hermione said as Tony threw the snow at the boy.

"Hey, look, your assistant's woken up," the boy said and Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Your _assistant_ ," she repeated, obviously not impressed and Tony simply shrugged.

"Well, who are you then?" the boy asked.

"I'm Saskia," she introduced, using her S.H.I.E.L.D. name. "I'm…" she sighed, giving in, "Mr Stark's assistant." She could tell that the boy didn't look convinced but she didn't see the point in telling him another lie. "I take it that was your garage I woke up in?"

"Yeah. I'm Harley," he replied and looked her up and down thoughtfully. "My mom's clothes fit you a lot better than I thought they would."

"So, what's going on here?" she asked quickly to change the subject.

"Nothing," Tony denied quickly, getting to his feet. "You know, just… fun in the snow!" He tossed another handful at Harley. "Are you feeling OK?" he asked and she knew that _he_ was changing the subject this time.

"Just spiffing," she said sarcastically, arms crossed over her chest. "You want to tell me what we're doing here?"

Tony took a couple of minutes to explain about the bombing carried out in the street behind them by a soldier called Chad Davis, its similarities to the Mandarin bombings and how J.A.R.V.I.S. had made a flight plan to come here before they were attacked in Malibu. Upon further questioning, Harley revealed that Chad's mother was in the local bar. Hermione wanted to go and talk to Mrs Davis instead of Tony, but he pointed out that he knew the details Chad's death much more than she did and that this was _his_ investigation – she just happened to be along for the ride.

"Actually, The Mandarin is _my_ case," Hermione retorted.

"Well, you're not coming in," Tony argued. "Your snooty accent makes you stick out like a sore thumb."

"He does have a point," Harley admitted. "We've never had anyone as posh sounding as you around here."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Fine. I'll wait outside – but you'd better tell me everything she says."

"Do all personal assistants argue back as much as you?" Harley asked her after she bought him a hot chocolate at a nearby store.

"I hope so," she replied with a shrug as they wandered down the street.

"So, what's it like to work for Iron Man?" he asked eagerly.

Hermione tilted her head. "I prefer to think of it as working _with_ him," she corrected. "And as you can tell, there's never really a dull moment. But there are plenty of headaches too."

Harley nodded and blew steadily on his drink to cool it down.

Gun shots started echoing from the bar and people ran from it, screaming.

"Oh for goodness sake!" Hermione cried in exasperation. "He can't even go into a bar without getting into trouble." She turned to Harley, who was looking a bit shocked by the commotion. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Hermione ran towards the bar, nearly bumping into Tony as he was on the way out. "Hot woman inside," he said quickly when he saw her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're still checking out women in the middle of all this!"

"No, she's _literally_ hot," Tony warned, indicating towards the entrance with his head because his hands were handcuffed behind his back. Hermione turned to look and saw a woman whose body, as Tony had said, was plainly glowing with extreme heat.

"Woah, okay, that's new," she admitted, turning to follow Tony's lead.

Another 'hot' individual, male this time, climbed out of a car and raised his cup of coffee at Tony in acknowledgement, before throwing its contents on the floor.

"You take the guy, I'll have the girl." Tony called as he turned and sprinted away. The guy raised a gun at Tony's back and Hermione quickly pulled out her wand to stop him but she was too late to prevent him firing a couple of shots. She twisted, heart in mouth, expecting to see Tony sprawled on the floor but the man had missed. Turning back, she saw him look over to the sidewalk where Harley was hiding behind a telephone pole with a pleased look on his face. Hermione had to keep the man away from him.

She summoned the gun out of his hand and he looked over at her with understanding in his eyes. "So _that's_ what you look like," he murmured. His body started to glow red and Hermione stunned him before he got the chance to put that heat to bad use.

"You're not a personal assistant, are you?" Harley asked with wide, excited eyes as she crouched next to him. "You're the Sorceress!"

"Yes, alright, you got me," she admitted quietly. "Look, I know I told you to stay here but I don't think that was a good idea after all."

"But what about Mr Stark?" Harley asked as the woman they were fighting fired a shotgun into a shop window.

"I'll help Tony," Hermione promised, " _you_ go home."

A red hand suddenly grabbed her arm and she was launched into the air, towards the road. She used her magic to soften the landing and looked in surprised at the man that she'd supposedly just stunned. For whatever reason, her magic obviously didn't work too well on him because he was walking menacingly towards her, orange once more.

Hermione sent a blasting hex at his hand and some of the flesh was blown away. However, her mouth gaped open as the flesh became black and ash-covered and then it appeared as though she'd never hexed it at all!

She rolled away just before his fist slammed into her and she saw the large dent he made in the car she'd been leaning against.

Hermione tried again, this time using a sustained freezing charm to cool him down. Steam waved off him as the different temperatures met but he still advanced on her and Hermione scrambled backwards. How was she supposed to stop this guy?

She wrapped a strong shield charm around him, hoping that it would contain him but he simply held his burning hands up to its walls and the shield shattered.

There wasn't much choice left. Hermione sent multiple blasting hexes at him and the man finally flew backwards and remained still. She stood, panting for a moment and then banished his body down a side alley. Luckily, the muggles had been scared away by the attacks but she didn't want to leave a lifeless body in the middle of the road. She was about to follow after him, to check whether he was still alive but there was an explosion in the building she'd last seen Tony enter. She ran over to it, Harley following behind her.

"Tony!" she called. The prone, female figure of Tony's pursuer resting on the powerlines caught her eyes and she gasped. Tony staggered into view, looking a little stunned.

"Well, I don't know about you, but that's warmed me up nicely," he remarked casually. "Where's the other guy?" Hermione showed him where the scorched body of her attacker lay. Despite his serious intentions to kill her, Hermione felt a heavy swirl of guilt at seemingly ending the man's life but Tony didn't seem interested in anything other than retrieving car keys from his pocket. "I'm just going to get that file and then we can go," he said.

Hermione frowned after him as he made his way back to the bar. "You guys weren't having fun in the snow when I first saw you, were you?" she said to Harley. The boy chewed this over for a moment, probably deciding what to tell her. "Look, Tony and I might be Avengers together, but we were friends first."

"He was having an anxiety attack," Harley admitted heavily. "He said it was my fault because I was asking questions about New York and the alien rumours."

Hermione sighed. She wasn't overly surprised to hear that Tony was having panic attacks given their conversation about his not sleeping a couple of weeks ago, but it obviously upset her to know that he was suffering far worse than she'd previously thought.

"Thank you for telling me, Harley, but that wasn't your fault," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know that events in New York _sound_ like the coolest thing ever but if you actually had to go through it, you'd know how truly horrible it was. Sometimes adults get scared too but they try not to show it because they think it makes them weak."

"You were scared in New York too? And Captain America and Thor?" he asked.

"We were all terrified," she nodded.

He paused, as though this hadn't really occurred to him before. "Then you guys are even more amazing than I thought."

She grinned at him. "Here," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out an unmarked packet of Fizzing Whizzbees. "I make my own sweets sometimes," she lied, before adding in a stage whisper. "They make you float off the ground when you eat them!"

"No way!" he said eagerly, accepting the sweets from her. "Do you want anything in return?"

"No," she replied, surprised that he'd even ask.

"Oh. Tony asked for quite a lot when he gave me this," Harley said, holding up a small device. "He said my tunafish sandwich was passable if you want me to make one for you."

Hermione shook her head. "Um, I'll skip it, thanks."

* * *

"You are such a jerk," Hermione accused as Tony drove them away after mocking Harley in his farewell.

"And you're a complete softie for falling for his act," he retorted.

They didn't really have a destination in mind. Tony was eager to get back to Pepper but Hermione pointed out that there was no rush as long as Pepper knew they were safe. She had a feeling that the Mandarin business would need them elsewhere and until they _knew_ where that was going to be, she wasn't about to magic them all over the country.

On Tony's instructions, Hermione started leafing through the report Mrs Davis had given them about Chad, holding up pieces of paper every now and then for him to glance at. It was about ten minutes into their journey that he noticed the letters AIM.

"What's the significance of that?" Hermione asked.

"Have you heard of them?"

"Of course."

"Look, the guy behind it all, Aldrich Killian, met with Pepper a couple of days ago. Happy mentioned that he was a little shifty – especially the lackey he had with him. Happy said he was going to investigate him and next thing you know he's been in a bomb attack. At the scene of the blast, were that guy's dog tags," he said, pointing to the picture of a man named Taggart. "But there was no record of his body being there."

Hermione nodded, seeing there was undoubtedly a connection between Chad Davis and Taggart and possibly AIM, too.

"I met Killian on New Year's Eve, 1999, in Switzerland," he continued. "And that was the same night that I met Maya Hansen."

"I see…" she said. That was far too much of a coincidence.

Tony shook his head. "I need more information. That's not enough. We've got to call Rhodey."

Hermione glanced at him in surprise. " _We do_?"

"War Machine – "

"Iron Patriot," she corrected, using his new official name, and he scowled.

" _War Machine_ ," he emphasised, "has pretty much got access to everything. We just need to get his login details to the SatComm."

"Hello?" Colonel Rhodes answered the call a couple of minutes later.

"Have you ever had a chick straddling you and you look up and suddenly she's glowing from the inside out, kind of a bright orange?" Tony asked by way of greeting and Hermione scoffed.

"Yeah, I've had that," came the dry reply. "Who is this?"

"It's me, pal," Tony replied. "Now, last time I went missing, if I remember correctly, you came looking for me. What are you doing?"

"On my way to do a little knock-and-talk in Pakistan."

"Are you asking people about The Mandarin?" Hermione interrupted. "Have you got a possible location?"

"Oh, yeah, Granger's here, by the way," Tony added. "Probably should have mentioned that."

They heard Rhodes sigh. "Yeah, probably. Look, Agent Granger, it's nothing personal – "

"It sounded pretty personal in that meeting," she pointed out. "I think this would be a different story if I was a native of these shores."

Tony glanced over at her. "You wanna go help?"

"Yes, if Colonel Rhodes lets me. The sooner we find The Mandarin, the better."

"Where are you heading, Rhodey? Don't be an idiot – Granger can help."

"And I'll even let you take all the credit," she added lightly.

" _I_ don't care about the credit!" Rhodes objected and then he sighed again. "OK, you can help but let's just keep this between us."

"Of course, Colonel," she agreed before glancing at Tony. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"It's fine – you come at it from your angle, I'll come at it from mine, and maybe we'll meet somewhere in the middle."

Colonel Rhodes gave her the coordinates. Pakistan was a pretty long trip so she rooted around for a few items that she could use as portkeys while Tony and Rhodes continued their conversation.

"My ETA is in five-and-a-half minutes," Rhodes told her so he could ignore Tony's laughter at his 'WAR MACHINE ROX' password. "Is that going to give you enough time to travel eight thousand miles, Granger?"

"Plenty."

Travelling such a great distance was not completely alien to her as she'd had to do similar trips to keep an eye on Bruce Banner last year but it did take an immense amount of concentration. She stopped off in Northern Venezuela, the Eastern tip of Brazil, the West coast of Africa, the banks of the River Nile and then finally Rhodes' coordinates in Pakistan. She was waiting for him outside the door when he landed.

"Okay," he allowed, "I'm impressed."

"Well, now that you've seen me, I'm going to hide myself. Can't have me stealing your limelight, can we?"

"I told you, I don't care –"

"Relax, I'm only teasing you. I'm camouflaging myself because I don't want anyone to see my face," she explained, putting on the disillusionment spell.

"Oh. Well, let's get on with it then."

She let him kick in the door and followed behind him, wand raised in preparation. However, it soon became clear that it was a false alarm. There was no sign or word of The Mandarin.

"What are you going to do?" Rhodes asked her when their search was complete.

"There's a S.H.I.E.L.D. base not far from here," she replied. "If we're as close to finding The Mandarin as you think we are, it's probably better to remain in the area for a little while longer, assuming, of course, that you're still going to let me come?"

"As long as we catch this guy, I'm happy," Rhodes responded.

"Good," she nodded. "I'll find myself a new phone at the base and then get in contact with you."

While she was waiting for the next possible Mandarin coordinates to come in, Hermione got back in touch with Tony. He filled her in on the Extremis Project that AIM was responsible for and how the instability of the treatment created the explosions in its subjects.

Her conversation with Tony had to be cut short when Rhodes informed her of a new possible location for the Mandarin.

"Are we sure this time?" Hermione asked as she prepared to leave.

"Support Team Blue-Zero think so," Rhodes replied. "See you there… Well, you know what I mean."

Iron Patriot blasted through the front entrance while Hermione apparated to the back. Taking a quick look around at the burka-wearing women who were sat around sewing machines, Hermione let her wand fall to the side.

Rhodes deactivated his weapons. "Oh. Support Blue-Zero, unless the Mandarin's next attack on the U.S involves cheaply-made sportswear, I think you messed up again."

The women all rushed excitedly towards Iron Patriot, shaking his hand and fleeing out of the door and Hermione followed more sedately behind them.

"Yes, you're free, uh, if you weren't before," Rhodes said to the women as they went past and Hermione chuckled.

"I'm definitely giving you all the credit for this one," she said teasingly.

"Very funny," he responded dryly, before shaking the last woman's hand. "It's my pleasure, ma'am."

He suddenly grunted and Hermione raised her wand in alarm but the woman turned and wrapped her glowing fingers around it. Hermione yelped as the wand burst into flames and a powerful fist slammed into her head, knocking her out at once.

* * *

A/N Thank you for reading! I hope it wasn't too confusing to follow.

The good news is that I've finished writing this fic now (I decided not to separate it as I was thinking of doing when I posted the first chapter) so that should make updates a bit speedier. Yay!

Until next time,

Lil Drop of Magic


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Hello!

Thank you for all the ways you support this fic! It really means a lot :)

* * *

So, the _bad_ news was that he was a prisoner in Killian's Miami compound, Granger was a drugged up heap on the floor, the Mandarin was just an actor, Maya Hansen was dead and, worst of all, Pepper had been injected with the Extremis serum and there was a very strong possibility that she would explode.

The _good_ news was… OK, there was no good news.

"Tony, what's up with my hand?" Granger asked, her speech slurred, as she waved the limb slowly in front of her eyes. "It's all shiny."

Under _very_ different circumstances, Tony would have found a spaced-out Granger highly amusing, but when Killian had done it against her will to stop her coming to her senses and vanishing away to get help, it wasn't so funny. Killian had gleefully revealed to Tony that he had big plans for his newly acquired Sorceress once he'd gotten the evening's proceedings out of the way. Tony had a horrible feeling that all manner of samples from Granger's body were winging their way to various AIM facilities for testing. If Killian ever allowed her to be sober again, Tony knew that Granger would completely flip out at the prospect of her secrets being unravelled.

"Your hand's badly burnt," Tony reminded her for what felt like the twentieth time. "Try and leave it alone."

Granger let her hand fall back to floor with a soft whack. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. "I miss Steve," she murmured.

"Yeah, me too," Tony admitted seriously. "He'd been very useful to have around right now. Hey, Granger, do me a favour and roll onto your side." The steady rise and fall of her chest and lack of movement told him that she'd already fallen asleep. He looked up at the two men who were guarding them. "Guys, come on, roll her over. Your boss isn't going to be happy if he finds out she choked to death on her own vomit."

They stared balefully at him for a moment and then one of them reluctantly got to his feet and used his shoe to nudge her onto her front.

"You're just full of compassion, aren't you?" Tony muttered.

His borrowed Dora the Explorer watch started beeping.

Finally, there was some good news.

After his freshly charged Mark 42 suit arrived in pieces to help him fend off the guards in the room and the others who appeared at all the commotion, Tony was surprised to find that Granger had managed to sleep through the whole thing. More parts of his suit pinged into place as he knelt down next to her to check that she was all right.

"Granger," he said loudly, shaking her.

She opened a bleary eye. "I'm glad that you support Gryffindor," she mumbled. "Red and gold for the win."

"Right," he muttered, not having a clue what she was talking about. "I've gotta go save Pepper. You don't happen to have a magic potion that's going to sober you up, do you?" He didn't want to leave her here in this state but he might not have any choice if he wanted to stop Killian.

She ran her hand clumsily down his face. "You're my friend," she slurred happily.

"Yeah, great. So, the potion, yes or no?"

"I hope you won't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" She didn't answer him but just looked at him sadly. "Granger?"

"Because of the lies."

He frowned at her for a moment but shook his head. He didn't have time for this now. The last parts of his suit soared through the window. "Not the face!" He held out a hand to grab the mask before it broke his nose and then slotted it place. "Phew, it's good to be back. Hello, by the way."

"Oh, hello, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S replied amiably.

Tony spotted Granger's jacket on the table and dragged it over to her. He put his hand in her magic pocket and pulled out a handful of items. He held up the first potion he could see.

"What's this?" he asked, nudging her to make her eyes open. "Come on, I need you to concentrate. If you identify them correctly, you may win a prize called, 'sobriety'."

Granger tried to focus on the vial he was holding in front of her face. "Blood replenisher," she said. He showed her two other vials which she looked blearily at. "Truth serum and Polyjuice potion." He delved into the deceptive pocket again and held up a trio of coloured bottles. "Calming draught, Essence of Dittany and an antidote to common poisons."

"Do you think this one might work?" he asked, holding up the antidote. The drugs in her system were very similar to a poison after all. She shrugged, looking like she might fall asleep again. It was a risk, he knew that, but she sounded like she knew what she was talking about when it came to the potions. "J.A.R.V.I.S?" he asked, letting the system scan the liquid.

"I can't determine all the ingredients, sir, but it appears non-toxic."

That was good enough for Tony. He unscrewed the lid and helped her sit up so she could drink it.

A call came in on his suit and he answered it.

"Tony," said a familiar voice.

"Rhodey, please tell me that they didn't get you when they got Granger?"

"Ah, sorry. They've taken my suit. Have you got yours?"

"Yeah, well, kind of," he replied when he noticed that his flight power was out of operation again. "Main house, as fast as you can; there's someone I'd like you to meet."

* * *

The Mandarin was just an actor.

In her somewhat fuzzy, post-drugs brain, that thought still radiated like a klaxon. She stared grimly at Trevor Slattery, pitying his feeble, narcotic-addicted life.

Tony suddenly appeared in front of her. "You up to a bit of magical transport?"

"What?" she frowned, realising she'd missed a significant part of the conversation.

"Okay, well, that's a no," Rhodes said. "I'm not letting her take me anywhere when she can barely see straight."

Tony gazed at her in concern. "Have you got anything else you can take to get yourself better?"

She nodded. "But I can't take too many potions at once."

Tony turned back to Slattery. "Hey, Ringo. Didn't you say something about a lovely speedboat?"

The fresh air and follow up potion had her feeling almost back to herself. Her burned hand was incredibly sore so she covered it in healing paste in the hopes that most of the damage would be soothed.

Hermione mourned the loss of the wand she'd had ever since her first visit to Diagon Alley. She'd been through so much with it over the years. She always kept a spare in her pocket that she could use and she'd trained with it many times to familiarise herself with it, but it would take time for her to feel perfectly comfortable.

She felt bad that she wasn't able to help Tony with rescuing the President on Air Force One. He'd shut himself in the speed boat's cabin and was operating his suit remotely.

"That's not good," Rhodes muttered.

Hermione turned her gaze to where he was looking, shielding her eyes against the blinding sun. Thousands of feet above them, the Presidential Plane had just exploded.

Hermione hung her head in her hands at the loss of life. Aldrich Killian had a _lot_ to answer for.

"Wait, I see something…" Rhodes said, sounding confused. "You have got to be kidding me."

"What is it?" she asked, peering into the sky again. She gasped when she saw the human chain Tony was making of survivors from the plane as they fell down to earth.

She retrieved her new wand from her pocket, despite the stinging from her burns, and apparated to be closer to their possible point of impact. She cast various momentum stopping and levitation spells to slow their progress to the water below and watched in relief as Tony deposited them safely into the water.

Any grogginess she'd been feeling was truly swept away by the adrenaline rush and she apparated back to the boat in greater spirits. The look on Tony's face was _not_ so happy.

"What's wrong?" she asked in concern.

"I lost the suit… and the President."

"Oh."

Rhodes turned away with a shake off his head.

"Do you want me to go back to Malibu and get you a new suit?" she offered. "I think I'm up to the journey now."

Tony held up a hand. "Hold your horses, Granger. Say, J.A.R.V.I.S, is it that time?"

"The 'House Party' protocol, sir?"

"Correct."

"And what, pray tell, is the 'House Party' protocol?" she asked suspiciously.

"I've just invited a few friends over to share the Miami sunshine with us," he shrugged casually.

"I see. How long is it going to take for these 'friends' to get here?" she enquired.

"Long enough for us to get to Pepper's destination and your hand to heal up a bit more."

Hermione nodded. Saving Pepper was hugely important but it made sense for them not to rush into things if Tony was able to call some backup. Plus, the more time she could have to recover, the better.

Night fell as they journeyed to the impounded oil-drilling platform and discussed their plans. Hermione disillusioned each man in turn and armed them with small bottles of exploding potion. "It's going to be hard for us to communicate," she warned them, "but let's try not to shoot each other."

"How are we supposed to do that when we're practically invisible?" Rhodes asked.

"Do you want me to take the spell off?" she enquired testily, hand on hip.

"No," he muttered lowly and Tony sniggered.

She spent a couple of minutes making multiple duplicates of the ammunition they had with them so that they'd be less likely to run out.

"They might not be as effective as the real bullets but it won't affect the firing of the weapon," she explained, passing the ammunition to a rather stunned Rhodes.

"Um, thanks," he said eventually.

Infiltrating the oil platform was ridiculously easy in their disillusioned states. For the moment, they had agreed to stay together until they could formulate a better plan.

"Tony, they might not be able to see us, but could you try not to walk so heavily?" she whispered. "They're going to hear you."

"I'm not used to being subtle," he retorted.

"You got that right," Rhodes sighed.

They continued further into the centre of the platform until they caught sight of the President strung up in the Iron Patriot suit over an oil tanker.

"Oh my God," Rhodes breathed. "They're going to light him up."

"Viking funeral," Tony agreed. "Public execution."

"Yeah, death by oil," Rhodes added.

"We'll see about that," Hermione muttered. "Colonel, if you get yourself back down to the speed boat in the next minute, you can be reacquainted with your suit," she promised.

There was silence for a moment and then Rhodes said, "That works for me."

"And what do I do?" Tony asked.

"Wait for your backup and try not to get shot," she instructed calmly.

"Ugh, _boring_ ," he muttered.

Hermione disapparated before he got the chance to object any further. She reappeared in mid-air next to the President and quickly reached out to wrap her arms around the suit. His eyes flew open in shock at the extra weight but Hermione sent severing hexes as the two cables that kept them aloft. They started to plummet down to the oil tanker but Hermione twisted with intense concentration, aware the Rhodes would be very annoyed if anything happened to the President or his suit.

They landed in the speed boat as an alarm blared out around the platform.

"Wh-what's happening?" the President asked in a panicked voice, unable to see her.

"Don't worry, Mr President, sir," she soothed. "You're going to be fine."

"Who are you?"

"That's the Sorceress, sir," Rhodes explained breathlessly as he re-boarded their boat. "We're here to get you to safety, but first, I need my suit back."

President Ellis seemed to take this all in quite well for someone who'd just had their first taste of magic and let Rhodes help him out of the Iron Patriot suit as gun shots echoed back up on the platform.

"Are you sure it's all right for me to take him?" she asked Rhodes as the suit began to click into place around him.

"Once he's safe, come back," Rhodes confirmed. "Tony's still going to need us. I'll give everyone the heads up that you're on your way."

"Mr President, I don't know if you had a more exotic location in mind for your Christmas dinner, but I'm taking you back to the White House," she explained calmly.

He looked surprised at her words but nodded. "Let's go."

She took his hand and apparated them first to Charlotte and then into the Oval Office itself. He stared around the familiar room with wide eyes then staggered into one of the seats.

One of the doors was flung open and two men raced in, weapons raised. They gaped when they saw the President, and Hermione took the opportunity to disapparate while they were suitably distracted.

When she returned to Miami a few moments later, she was shocked at the chaos that had unfolded in her absence. Iron Man suits, too many to count, zoomed all around her, taking on Killian's men. Tony might not have been getting much sleep in the last few months but he'd certainly not been idle in that time!

Where the real Tony was, she had no idea and nor did she know Pepper's location. Her only choice was to join in the fight against the Extremis soldiers and keep her eyes open for any developments. Employing her flying method of apparation, she soared around the platform, sending extremely forceful blasting hexes as she went. There was too much pandemonium around for her to know for sure whether any of her spells proved fatal and that suited her just fine. Killing the aliens in New York had been hard enough but these were fellow human beings. However, they were intent on destroying her friends and terrorizing the world (just like the Chitauri), and that was enough cause for her to push her conscience aside.

She looped around the platform, grimly pleased to see that the number of opponents had greatly diminished.

A loud scream made her turn just in time to see Pepper disappear into a huge, blazing fire. Hermione stared, heart pumping painfully, hoping that her eyes had been playing tricks on her.

That hadn't happened.

Pepper was here somewhere.

Tony had rescued her.

She searched around again, desperately looking for signs of her friends – she hated not being able to communicate with them!

Finally, Hermione spotted Aldrich Killian furiously fighting with one of the Iron Man suits. Tony had to be there. She apparated closer to them, but not too close; their battle was so violent and intense that there was a strong possibility she would accidentally get in the way. A split second after she landed, Tony ejected himself from his suit to avoid the scorching fist that Killian was about to send into his chest. She sent a trio of blasting hexes at Killian that his impressive reflexes were just about able to avoid.

"Is that all you've got, Sorceress?" he challenged arrogantly.

Another suit shot up from below them, grabbing Killian as it went.

"Stay out of this, Granger," Tony's voice called firmly.

Hermione scowled. He expected her to just stand around and watch him fight a battle to the death with a man who could slice through his suits like they were _butter_?

She tracked their progress and followed them up to a higher part of the platform, ready to intervene despite Tony's order. Curses and hexes were constantly on the tip of her tongue as Killian maintained the upper hand in their battle. Hermione forced herself to believe that Tony could do this, that she wouldn't regret not blasting Killian when his back was turned.

The latest suit was soon destroyed and, trying to perceive Tony, Hermione appreciated how strange it was for others to try and talk with her when she was under the disillusionment charm. Unfortunately, this didn't seem to put Killian off. He stood dominantly above Tony, like a warrior who knew his victory was almost complete – especially when the incoming Mark 42 smashed rather spectacularly on arrival.

"You really didn't deserve her, Tony," Killian said. The truth that Hermione had been denying swept painfully through her chest. Pepper was truly gone… "It's a pity," Killian continued. "I was so close to having her perfect." He jumped confidently down to the same level as Tony.

"OK, OK, wait!" Tony said hurriedly. "Slow down! You're right. I don't deserve her. Here's where you're wrong – she was already perfect." He waved his arm as Killian advanced, fist raised, and contained him in the Mark 42, trapping him against the platform. "J.A.R.V.I.S, do me a favour and blow Mark 42."

Killian screamed in rage. Hermione wasn't sure whether Tony wanted to make a macho descent to the ground or he just didn't realise she was there, but he jumped off the platform, sliding down the metalwork on his side. Hermione disapparated just before the suit exploded, looking up for Tony when she reappeared.

Iron Patriot soared above her, plucking something from out of the sky. He landed next to her, half an Iron Man suit in his grasp. Hermione sent up a protective shield to keep away the burning metal that was raining down on them. She tapped experimentally at the space around the Iron Man suit, successfully finding a part of Tony to reverse the camouflage. At the sight of his battered and haunted face, a part of her wished she hadn't.

"Oh, Tony…" She resisted the very strong urge to hug him, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate it.

"I'm sorry, man," Rhodes said, laying a hand on Tony's shoulder and helping him to his feet.

A creaking noise came from behind them and Hermione turned, nerves jangling, hoping that it was just the platform. A figure stirred amongst the flames and she gasped. It staggered towards them, all ash and flame, but there was no doubt that it was Killian. How had he managed to survive that?!

"No more false faces," he said hoarsely. "You three wanted the Mandarin; you're looking right at him." His body glowed more brightly than ever and Hermione could feel the intense heat radiating from him. " _I am the Mandarin!_ " Killian cried.

A blasting curse was on the tip of her tongue when Killian was suddenly propelled sideways and he slammed forcefully into a wall.

She, Tony and Rhodes gaped at the glowing person who was holding the long industrial pipe responsible for launching Killian; it was Pepper. She gazed back at them, breathing heavily, and apart from the light radiating from her skin and eyes, she looked remarkably well for someone who had survived a two hundred foot drop into a blazing inferno.

"I got nothing," Tony said blankly, still staring at Pepper in utter shock and Hermione slowly nodded her head mutely in agreement.

One of the Iron Man suits soared through the sky and they all realized it was locked onto the heat signature that Pepper was radiating due to the Extremis virus.

"J.A.R.V.I.S, subject at my twelve o'clock is not a target, disengage!" Tony said urgently but neither Hermione nor Rhodes waited for his order to be followed. The combination of his repulsor and her spell easily tore the suit apart.

Pepper glared at Tony and he looked at her somewhat guiltily.

Killian lurched into view once more and the four of them looked between each other.

Pepper glanced down and saw one of the suit's small missiles at her feet. She threw it at Killian and Rhodes detonated it with a blast from Iron Patriot. Hermione quickly spelled a protective shield to protect them from the fiery explosion that followed. And, when the flames and smoke were blown away a few seconds later, there was nothing left of Aldrich Killian.

* * *

"Are you really going to spend your Christmas Day in here?" Hermione's voice called softly behind him. Steve turned away from the punch bag, relief flooding through him.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed, drinking in the sight of her standing, relatively unharmed, before him. Steve enveloped her in his arms tightly despite the bindings that were wrapped around his hands. They just stood there for a couple of minutes, making the most of being together, knowing that next time they might not be so lucky.

"Are you OK?" he murmured eventually. "What happened? There was no word from you for twenty-four hours." He didn't point out how worried he'd been because that went without saying. Hermione might be the most capable person he'd ever met but that didn't prevent his concern. Sometimes his old fear that they were making a mistake, that they were courting disaster by letting each other in, would rear its ugly head. But Steve knew that the time had long since passed when he would be able, and willing, to unravel the thread that tied Hermione so closely to him.

He sensed her lean backwards and he shifted his hands to the small of her back, not willing to let go of her just yet. "I'm fine," she nodded with a weak smile. "We had a couple of close calls and there's still a bit of concern about Pepper but the Mandarin has been stopped."

"What happened to Pepper?" he asked in concern.

"It's a long story," she replied with a sigh, resting her cheek against the top of his chest. "But Tony is confident he can fix her."

"Uh, good," he said, not quite able to put that comment into context.

"I just portkeyed them up to New York," she continued. "Tony said we were welcome to have Christmas dinner with them as long as we brought some food."

Steve chuckled. "Hmmm. Well, the last holiday meal we had with him went _so_ well," he pointed out sarcastically, recalling the unexpected outing of their relationship at Thanksgiving. She looked up at him, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling with amusement and he couldn't resist pressing his lips against hers for a few seconds. She put a hand to his cheek and he flinched at the extreme coolness of her touch.

"Sorry," she mumbled against his lips. "My hand got a little burnt." Steve pulled back and took her palm in his hands, looking in concern at the orange paste that she'd covered it in. "My wand burst into flames while I was still holding it," Hermione explained lightly, seemingly unaffected by the event. "Unfortunately, that means I'm onto my third wand. Tony's soon going to get suspicious of my seemingly inexhaustible supply of family heirlooms."

Steve kept his mouth closed. He fully respected her right to keep her magical world a secret and knew that he was privileged to know as much about it as he did, but that didn't mean that he liked the deception. He knew that Hermione hated all the lies too and he still hoped that one day she would be able to live freely wherever she went, rather than keep up all her different façades.

Steve was confident that with _him_ , there was no façade. He trusted that Hermione was completely honest with him, even though he was aware that there was a huge part of her life, both past and present, that he knew very little about. He didn't need to know all of her secrets to recognise who Hermione was inside.

He raised her hand to his mouth, kissing her wrist tenderly, and he didn't miss the way her breath hitched in her throat.

"Um," she frowned and shook her head, her cheeks reddening. "What was I saying?" She sounded a little flustered and Steve tried not to feel too pleased at the effect he'd had on her – God knew she'd done it to _him_ on plenty of occasions and she didn't even realise it most of the time!

"I love you."

Steve froze.

He hadn't meant to say that.

He'd barely been aware of the words registering in his brain before they left his lips!

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and panic crept up his chest. Why was this moment far more petrifying than facing an army of alien invaders?!

Steve knew that what he'd said was true; he _did_ love Hermione, but he had never intended to just blurt it out like that when they were standing next to a punch bag in the middle of a significantly unromantic gymnasium while he was all sweaty, and she'd just returned from apprehending an international terrorist complete with anti-burn paste covering her hand and scorched, tattered clothes. _Smooth move, Rogers_ , he scolded himself.

He opened his mouth, intending to downplay the comment, or make a joke, or just say _anything_ to break the stunned silence he'd brought between them, but the traitorous connection between his brain and mouth had now completely broken down.

"I love you too."

If it wasn't for the beatific smile on Hermione's face, Steve would have come to the conclusion that his hearing of those words was purely wishful thinking. But the gleeful way she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his disbelieving face down to hers, soon sealed his relief and he kissed her eagerly, his heart lighter than at any moment he could recall in his entire life.

* * *

A/N We fairly rattled through Iron Man 3, huh? I think that's partly because I'm not overly fond of it! (I'm not keen on any of the Iron Man films to be honest, which is weird because I really like writing Tony!) Parts of this and the previous chapter were real slogs but I hope that doesn't come across.

I have deliberately not mentioned Tony destroying all of his Iron Man suits at the end of the film. A couple of people have told me they really didn't like that bit and it does make me a little sad so, if you're one of those people, you can believe that Hermione and Rhodey convinced Tony _not_ to detonate them!

The next chapter will be somewhat controversial. I expect some of you will have issues with it but if you're someone who can just go with things then you should be fine!

Anyway, please let me know what you think of the chapter (and reassure me that I'm not the only one who doesn't love the Iron Man films!)

Love,

Lil Drop of Magic


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Hi! Thanks for all the support and love!

* * *

"What's Gryffindor?" Tony asked as soon as Granger answered his call.

Her brows creased in confusion. "What did you just say?"

" _Gryffindor_ ," he repeated, pronouncing the word clearly. "When Killian had you drugged up you said you were glad that I supported Gryffindor because my suit was red and gold. J.A.R.V.I.S. couldn't find a mention of the word anywhere."

"Well, that's hardly surprising," she answered smoothly. "Gryffindor was the name of the boarding house I stayed in at school – their colours are red and gold."

"Oh," Tony replied, a little disappointed by the answer and then he frowned. "But isn't it a bit odd that there was no trace of it whatsoever? What was your school called?"

"Tony, what is this about?" she asked and he didn't fail to notice that she was deflecting his question. "Don't you have anything better to do than snoop around my childhood?"

"Apparently not," he replied loftily. "I'm taking an extended break from my suits, Pepper's at work and you're too busy doing whatever you're doing to come and work on _Stranger Enterprises_ with me. My mind just happened to drift back to the events of last month and I remembered the things you said when you were off your face."

Looking slightly concerned, her eyes searched his face for a moment. "What other things did I say?"

He paused, wondering whether to tell her or not.

If, like she'd admitted, she _was_ lying to him, then he had a right to know. Sure, he wasn't the most moral person in the world but he didn't appreciate the idea of Miss holier-than-thou Sorceress deceiving him in such a way. And who was to say that she was only lying to him? How far did the deceptions spread? Was she fooling Pepper too? And what about S.H.I.E.L.D. and her beloved Steve? It wasn't as though Tony actually knew a great deal about her anyway. Everything he _did_ know had been told to him _by her_. The idea that the person he knew as Hermione Granger could be nothing but a huge lie, made him feel sick and dirty.

But then he told himself to get a grip because he was probably overreacting. After all, there could be a very good reason that she wasn't being completely truthful with him.

Tony could count on one hand the number of people he felt genuine friendly affection for and the young woman on his screen was one of them. He didn't want to lose her friendship. There was every chance that what she'd said was nothing but nonsense that the drugs in her system had made up. If he chose, he could convince himself to believe that and then he'd be able to carry on his relationship with her as normal.

"Tony, what else did I say?" she pressed.

Maybe his recent experiences had made him sentimental but, looking at Granger, Tony felt confident that he _did_ know the true her. They'd been through so much together over the last year and a half and it was in those tight spots that you saw what lay at a person's core. Tony trusted what he'd seen of Hermione's and hoped he didn't come to regret his decision.

"That I was the sexiest man you'd ever seen," he claimed semi-seriously.

She snorted derisively. " _You wish_."

* * *

Steve had experienced his fair share of strange situations: Super-soldier serum, waking up sixty years in the future, Norse gods, and aliens invading the planet. But spending a day with Hermione in _her_ world was definitely right up there in the strangeness stakes.

They were in the UK for a couple of days to get a house set up for Hermione's parents, who were soon arriving back in the country after Hermione had reversed the longstanding memory spell a couple of months ago. Steve had never seen Hermione so anxious in the days leading up to their trip to Sydney and he was immensely proud of her for having the courage to face up to her fears and admit to her parents what she'd done. Her concerns that they'd reject her because of the extreme methods she'd employed had been unfounded. Yes, they'd been shocked and a little cross that Hermione had performed magic on them without their consent, but the sheer joy at seeing her safe and back in their lives quickly swept that aside.

The four of them had spent a few enjoyable days soaking up the Australian summer sun and getting to know each other. Hermione told her parents a slightly watered-down version of her job at S.H.I.E.L.D. (which she confided in Steve was more about preventing them from worrying, rather than straight forward deceit) and if Mr and Mrs Granger knew that he was Captain America, they didn't bring it up and nor did Steve. It hadn't taken the Grangers long to decide to move back to the UK, particularly when they realised that they had opened a candy store in Sydney; a far cry from their previous profession as dentists!

Unsurprisingly, decorating and furnishing a house when your girlfriend was a witch was ridiculously easy and Mr and Mrs Granger's new home was ready very quickly.

The other purpose of Steve and Hermione's trip was to introduce him to a couple of her friends. It had been her idea, of course, as he never pushed her when it came to revealing parts of her life (no matter how curious he was) and he could tell that this was a big step on her part. He wished that he could show a similar level of trust by introducing her to _his_ friends but all of them were either dead or already acquainted with her. They both visited Peggy frequently and Hermione continued to secret potions into Peggy's tea to help slow down her Alzheimer's disease (something she'd been doing ever since she'd discovered that a founding member of S.H.I.E.L.D. was still alive, as a mark of admiration and respect to the retired agent.) and it hadn't taken Peggy long to work out who Hermione really was.

Steve had already met Harry on a couple of occasions but that had been in the midst of Loki's attempt on world domination – socialising with his girlfriend's best friend was slightly different circumstances, and ones that Steve was totally unfamiliar with. Steve's apprehension wasn't eased when Hermione revealed that her other best friend, Ron, was also her ex-boyfriend and that he, too, would be present.

"Ron is one of the most important people in the world to me," Hermione had said, making Steve feel uncomfortable, "but he… can let his emotions get the better of him sometimes," she continued delicately. "He's hasn't encountered many non-magical people and he might say something stupid to make himself feel more comfortable." She frowned. "I think he'll find you very intimidating."

Steve wasn't sure if it was an automatic response to dislike your girlfriend's previous romantic partners (he had a feeling that it was) but he resolved to do his best to get along with Ron. However, Steve was somewhat reassured by the news that Ron had a girlfriend of his own called Katie.

Steve surprised himself by being able to forget about the upcoming gathering for most of the day – but that wasn't so hard when Hermione took him to a secret magical street in the middle of London to do some shopping!

It was certainly a day of big steps.

"But won't you get in trouble?" Steve asked when Hermione broached the idea.

"Muggle visitors to Diagon Alley are rare," she allowed, "but it does happen." Steve looked at her closely, unconvinced. "OK, it's mostly just when parents accompany their muggleborn children," she admitted. "But I told you, you're different; the Minister for Magic has accepted you as being the official muggle liaison to Wizarding Britain. And, as such, that comes with privileges."

Steve suspected that she'd had to lobby quite hard and use all her powers of persuasion for him to be made acceptable to the Minister, who probably would've rather had Steve's memory wiped. How much the Minister knew about him or his relationship with Hermione, Steve didn't know, and nor did he wish to. Hermione, though, seemed satisfied with the arrangement. Steve simply trusted that she knew what she was doing and so allowed her to take him to Diagon Alley (not that he needed much persuasion).

Steve was completely taken aback by the extent of their magic society: their wide range of shops and stalls, fashions and tastes. They even had a currency and their own bank. But he had discovered that this paled in comparison to the shocking revelation that the building was run by goblins!

Hermione had looked very reluctant to enter the bank as they ascended the marble steps to the strangely crooked, white building.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing her trepidation despite his astonishment at everything around him.

"I don't have particularly fond memories of this place," she muttered darkly and then sighed and smiled grimly at him. "I'll tell you all about it one day, I promise."

He squeezed her hand comfortingly, wondering what was preventing her from sharing more about herself. If she was willing to take him so deeply into her world, what other barriers stood in her way from telling him everything?

He was used to adrenaline-fuelled adventures but he had to admit that the journey down to her bank vault certainly came with a rush.

"This is all crazy," he muttered, looking around at the vehicle that had taken them miles under London, the gloomy recess they were in, the goblin waiting to take them back and the assortment of coins that were stacked in her vault.

She sent him a sharp, worried glance. "You think I shouldn't have shown you?"

"What? No, of course not!" he objected. "It's crazy, yes, but…" He shook his head in wonder. "It's amazing."

She let out a shaky breath and finished scooping coins into her purse. When she stood, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. " _You're_ amazing."

Hermione scoffed at that. "Hardly. You've seen it now; there are plenty of others just like me. I'm really not that special – I'm just a liar." She lifted her foot to step into the cart and he pulled her backwards away from the goblin. She stared down at her shoes and he gazed at her in concern, wondering what had suddenly brought on this insecurity.

"Do you think I only love you because you're a witch?" he asked quietly. "That every day I don't see what a kind, loving, passionate person you are? Someone who would carry the weight of an entire society of people on her shoulders and protect them from the rest of the world? Someone who would do _anything_ for the ones she loved?"

Hermione trembled at his words and a couple of tears slid down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly," she said thickly, giving him a watery smile. "It's just having you here, being a part of all this, is pretty overwhelming. I've wanted to show you for so long and now it's real." She squeezed his hand as though to confirm that this wasn't a dream. "I've had to separate my life into different parts but everything's starting to come back together. I'm becoming whole again. Because of you."

The loving kiss that followed these words was only interrupted by the goblin loudly clearing his throat.

The remainder of their shopping trip was much more light-hearted as they eagerly went from shop to shop so that Steve could see as much as possible. It was bizarre that Diagon Alley, with its apothecary, quills and narrow paved streets, had made him feel like he'd stepped back to a time before even he was born. It was fascinating to see people buying potion ingredients and books about spells as though this was a normal, everyday thing. Unsurprisingly, Hermione bought plenty of these items herself but they also had fun picking out candy to try later that day.

For some reason, it didn't occur to the people in Diagon Alley that Steve wasn't magical too because they just heard one word of his American accent and assumed that his ignorance was borne of his nationality. Perhaps wizarding life in the States was rather different. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that magic existed worldwide but Hermione had impressed upon him the need for discretion about that fact – apparently it was important that Nick Fury be kept in the dark.

Many of the shop keepers knew Hermione by name and treated her with much greater respect than they did their other customers. It became quite clear that she was well-known and admired in her magical world, but Steve didn't really know why. He had a feeling that her denial of being special amongst her fellow witches and wizards wasn't entirely true.

In Diagon Alley's most chaotic shop, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, they amused themselves by discussing which of the various joke products they would use on their fellow Avengers.

"Hang on, Hermione Granger is actually considering pranking someone?" a shocked voice said behind them. "Doth my one ear deceive me?" The speaker was a tall red-haired man with, as he said, only one ear. Hermione smiled warmly when she saw him.

"Very funny," she said dryly.

"I should think so, otherwise I'm out of a business," the man replied brightly.

"Steve, this is George Weasley, owner of this questionable establishment," Hermione teased and then her voice became serious. "Do not touch a single thing he offers to you if you want to leave this shop looking the same as when you came in."

"I would act offended but she knows me too well," George admitted to Steve, holding out his hand. "Nice to meet you, mate."

"Yeah, you too." Steve automatically shook George's hand, forgetting Hermione's warning, and his hand promptly disappeared. "Woah."

Hermione clicked her tongue in disapproval but George grinned widely. "Don't worry, it'll wear off in a minute. It's a new product we're promoting."

"How does it work?" Hermione asked, looking thoughtfully at the empty space where Steve's hand should be. "Is it an invisibility spell or a vanishing charm?" Both of those options sounded the same to Steve.

"A gentleman never tells," George replied, tapping his nose in a secretive fashion and making it disappear too. Hermione and Steve couldn't help but laugh as George's eyes crossed as he tried to see what had happened. It was rather an odd spectacle. "Like I said, it's new. It takes a bit of getting used to. So, are you two interested in anything in particular?" George's eyes roamed over Steve's physique. "Something tells me you're not going to be needing any of our 'Muscle-me-up Mixture'. Way to upgrade after my brother, Granger!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his comment and Steve realised who George's brother must be. He was soon to discover that you couldn't go far in British wizarding society without coming upon a Weasley.

That afternoon, they went to watch the broomstick sport that Hermione had told him about all those months ago at the Mets game. The match was between the Holyhead Harpies and Caerphilly Catapults and featured _Ginny_ Weasley on the Harpies team. Steve was able to pick up the basics of the game pretty easily and he watched, captivated, as the players zoomed around the sky, competing at high, and sometimes brutal, intensity.

"So, if no one catches the little gold ball, they really carry on playing through the night?" Steve asked Hermione after forty-five minutes of the match had passed. He wasn't bored by any means, but it sounded absurd that they could be there for hours yet without the match being over.

Hermione nodded, her face showing exactly how ridiculous she found that rule. "But it's rare for them to go on that long." Ginny scored a goal for the Harpies and Hermione cheered and applauded loudly as they took the lead. "I know Ginny will be really annoyed if it isn't finished before dinner, she's really looking forward to meeting you."

Twenty minutes later, the game was over when the Catapults' Seeker caught the Golden Snitch (Steve was beginning to get a handle on the terminology). He and Hermione travelled down to the changing rooms to wait for Ginny.

"Does this member of the Weasley family come with any warning?" Steve asked, thinking back on what she'd said about both Ron and George.

Hermione laughed. "No, not this time."

There was a hearty scowl on Ginny's face as she left the changing room with her broomstick slung over her shoulder, no doubt due to her team's loss, but that soon transformed into a wide grin when she saw Hermione waiting for her and the two women embraced warmly. "Sorry you saw such a rubbish game," Ginny muttered as they pulled apart. "We should've won comfortably." Ginny turned to Steve and her eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. You are possibly the most gorgeous man I've ever seen." She turned back to Hermione. "What in Godric's name is he doing with you?" she teased and Hermione pushed her lightly.

"Hands off, he's mine," Hermione warned, circling her arm around his waist.

"Sure am," Steve agreed, resting his hand against her back.

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "You two are disgustingly cute together."

After Hermione introduced them properly, they walked over to the apparation site so they could travel to Harry's house for dinner.

"I guess all of this must be a lot for you to take in," Ginny commented, looking curiously at Steve, aware of his lack of magic after Hermione had told her about his liaison role.

He nodded. "You could say that, but Hermione's been breaking me in gently," he explained and Ginny smirked.

"Oh, has she?" she enquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't be vulgar," Hermione chided and Ginny laughed.

"Sorry, I'm still in Quidditch mode," she replied. "Our changing room is not for the easily offended. Did you enjoy the game?" she asked Steve. He assured her that he did and they spent a few minutes discussing the key points of the match. She even offered to let him have a try on her broom once they got to Harry's, something that he couldn't resist accepting.

"I don't even know if muggles can ride brooms," Ginny murmured looking at Steve thoughtfully before turning to Hermione. "Do you know?"

She shook her head. "I've got absolutely no idea."

There was a lull in the conversation and then Ginny suddenly said, "You know I don't believe your story about the animal study, right?" referring to Hermione's cover story to her friends about her job.

Hermione's hand tightened in Steve's and she looked at Ginny with alarm. "What are you talking about?"

Ginny frowned at her. "Look, it's OK. I know you wouldn't be lying about it if it wasn't important, but, just… don't."

Hermione stared at the ground. This wasn't the sort of conversation that Steve wanted to be present for but he gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Hermione said meekly, looking her friend in the eye. "It's not been my choice, I promise."

Ginny nodded stiffly. "I believe you," she replied and then her features softened. "I just wish I knew what you were really doing – it's got to be something interesting for you to be this secretive!"

Hermione smiled. "Interesting is one word for it," she allowed. "I can't go into details but," she raised the hand that was joined with Steve's, "suffice to say it involves working with muggles."

Ginny nodded. "And are they all as good-looking as you?" she asked Steve with a grin. "Not that I'm in the market or anything, I'm just curious."

"Uh, I wouldn't really know how to answer that," Steve admitted modestly.

"That's a shame." Ginny looked disappointed but turned to Hermione again. "And they all know about your magic?"

"It's been explained in a way to protect us," she replied. Steve could tell that Hermione was getting uncomfortable with how much she was revealing to Ginny. "But Steve's the only one who knows the truth."

Ginny eyed him again and Steve hoped he held up against her scrutiny. "I would never tell anyone," he insisted. "I give you my word."

She nodded. "Hermione wouldn't just share our ways with anybody. If she trusts you then there's a very good reason for that."

"There is," Hermione confirmed.

"OK then," Ginny replied brightly. "Well, let's go get some dinner. I'm starving!"

Unfortunately for her, Harry hadn't even started cooking when they converged on his house, which was pleasantly situated in the middle of the countryside. Harry welcomed Steve warmly and quietly congratulated him on being newly tolerable to the Minister of Magic, before saying he was only too happy to let him try and fly around in his back garden.

Steve looked at the broom that Ginny held out to him with a calculating expression and weighed it in his hands. It was one of Harry's spares, as they all agreed it probably wasn't best to risk him accidentally destroying Ginny's top of the line broom on his first go. It didn't exactly _look_ like a normal broom with its sleek handle, foot rests, and streamlined twigs and it didn't feel like it was going to be strong enough to support him but he'd seen similar ones being used only an hour earlier.

Ginny showed him how to grip the handle and demonstrated how to push off to float a few inches off the ground. Hermione stood at the side, an amused expression on her face.

"Don't you want to fly too?" he asked, aware that Harry had other spares.

"I'll wait until I'm sure you're not going to fall off, first," she replied lightly.

"Thanks," he chuckled and then focused on what Ginny had said. The broomstick quivered in his grip and joltingly rose a few inches. Ginny reassured him that he was doing it correctly and after a few tries he managed to restrict most of the jerkiness but he knew it would be a lot smoother if he was magical.

Over the next half an hour, Ginny taught him how to turn, rise, dive, accelerate and slow down. Steve was happy that he managed not to fall off but Ginny was impressed. "Considering you've got no magic in you, that wasn't too bad. You've got good coordination and agility in that big frame of yours," she said when they were back on firm ground. "Here," she handed him a bat and picked up one of the black balls that tried to knock players off their brooms. Luckily, the one she was holding was completely docile. "See how far you can hit this when I throw it up," Ginny instructed.

"Um, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Hermione said and Ginny frowned.

"I just want to see what sort of a beater he'd be with all those muscles," Ginny replied and turned back to him. "Hit it as hard as you can."

"If you say so," he answered simply, getting a firm grip on the bat in preparation. He watched the ball leave her arms and swung at it with all his might. The bludger rocketed off and they quickly lost sight of it.

Ginny gazed at him open-mouthed. "Thank Merlin you're not a wizard," she said eventually. "I'd hate to come up against you on a Quidditch pitch."

The light soon faded and they went inside to avoid the chilly February evening.

"So, is a flying broom going to be on your next Christmas list?" Harry asked as Steve accepted the proffered pint of beer.

"I'd love one," Steve replied enthusiastically, "but I don't think it would be too easy to explain away if you want this whole 'magic' thing to stay a secret." He shook his head. "It certainly puts my motorbike to shame though."

"My Godfather had a flying motorbike," Harry said and Steve looked over at Hermione hopefully.

"I'll think about it," she answered with a sigh but there was amusement in her eyes.

A rush of flames in the fireplace made Steve step back in alarm but they quickly vanished. In their place, stood a man that Steve easily identified by his red hair as Ron.

"Sorry I'm late," he announced, dusting the soot off his clothes. "I got caught up at work."

"It's fine," Harry replied, welcoming him with a pat on the shoulder. "You're actually just on time."

"Which is a shame because I was going to eat your share," Ginny said with a smirk and Ron sent her a scathing look.

Steve stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do with himself as his heart thumped surprisingly strongly in his chest.

Hermione walked forwards with a tentative smile on her face. "Hi."

"Hi," Ron replied, glancing quickly in Steve's direction.

"It's good to see you," Hermione said earnestly.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, you too."

She turned her body slightly and reached for Steve's hand. "Um, this is Steve."

The two men exchanged nods, shook hands and traded amiable greetings.

"I guess it's time to dish up," Harry said. "I hope you're all hungry."

"I'll give you a hand," Steve offered and Harry nodded his assent. Steve wanted to give Ron and Hermione the chance to talk without him looming over their shoulders so he followed the dark haired man to the kitchen.

"I'm curious," Harry said as he pulled plates out of a cupboard. "Out of everything you've experienced, what's been the most shocking?"

Steve sipped his beer as he considered his answer. There were many possible choices after all. "What a man can do to another man," he said lowly. He glanced up when he realised that Harry had paused and was staring at him. Steve shifted his weight. "Sorry, I expect you wanted me to say something like aliens or magic."

"No, it's OK. I understand," Harry replied grimly and nodded towards the other room. "We all know what that's like. Hermione's told you about Voldemort, right?"

Steve frowned. "What?"

"The war."

"Not really," Steve admitted. "She's told me lots about magical life but not its history."

Harry looked surprised for a moment and then a look of understanding settled on his face. "Ah. Well, there are two possible reasons that are more likely than any others I can think of; firstly, she shouldn't really be telling you anything given the Statute of Secrecy, but seeing as she told you plenty before she even _thought_ of making you an official liaison, I can't see that holding her back now. So, either she doesn't want to relive the events, which is understandable, or she doesn't consider it her story to tell."

"Whose _would_ it be?"

"Mine, I suppose," Harry admitted with a sigh and Steve stared in surprise. "But she needn't have been so concerned – I don't mind if she tells you; she and Ron were there through it all too."

Steve recalled something he'd overheard Harry say to Hermione while they'd been fighting in New York. "You said you wouldn't have gotten through your first year at school without her. You weren't talking about her helping you with your homework, were you?"

Harry laughed. "Actually, she did do that as well, but, no, that's not what I meant. Hermione's been saving my life since I was eleven. If it weren't for her, life in this country – maybe all over the world – would be very different and that's not an exaggeration." He paused to push his glasses up his nose. "The fact that she's brought you so deeply into our world, fought to have you officially accepted, shown you what few other muggles have ever seen, _without_ telling you about what happened, shows how closely Hermione holds those events within her. They defined her, made her who she is. If she tells you, that's Hermione laying herself bare in front of you. You'll know everything. And not just about her; the war affected all of us. And yet, there are parts of our history that only a few of our kind know." Harry's posture and tone shifted, becoming more guarded. "Hermione trusts you, that's obvious, and I've read enough about you to know she's probably right –"

"You don't need to threaten me," Steve cut in calmly, knowing that's where Harry was heading. "I'd never betray Hermione's confidence or do anything to hurt her."

"Good." Harry nodded. "You might be a superhero, but you know we'd take you down with ease."

Steve chuckled, aware that this was true. He held out a hand and Harry shook it firmly.

As he helped to carry the food into the dining room, Steve chewed over what Harry had said. Since their first meeting, he'd known that Hermione had been involved in a war, but he'd never anticipated that she'd been so close to the events. Of all the times he'd wondered about her, he'd never been more curious for answers.

* * *

"So, in conclusion, another completely successful operation," Rumlow said, giving Hermione a satisfied nod. She had just returned from a compound in Waziristan, having safely rounded up and delivered a number of fighters from the Ten Rings into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands without a soul being harmed. Information about the secret terrorist organisation was incredibly hard to come by so whenever it came in, S.H.I.E.L.D. had to act as quickly as possible to make use of it, which inevitably meant sending in the Sorceress. "You're a STRIKE commander's dream, Granger."

Hermione smiled modestly at the compliment.

"That's kind of you to say," she replied, "but we both know you'd much rather be working with the rest of your team or someone like Steve so you could get involved with the action yourself." He shrugged not accepting or denying her claim.

She'd been infrequently working with Brock Rumlow for a few months now and, initially, both had been rather sceptical about the collaboration. You only needed to look at Rumlow to know that he was an extremely experienced and competent agent, but dealing with a Sorceress was obviously a little outside his skills set. However, with Coulson no longer around to oversee her missions, it made sense for someone with Rumlow's vast knowledge of strategic techniques to take on that mantle when it was called for.

Her primary focus since Christmas had been tracking down the various AIM facilities around the world to ensure that whatever information Aldrich Killian might have collated on her during her brief captivity was destroyed. Due to unconsciousness and narcotics, she had no memory of those few hours, but a small, red mark on her arm told her that he had at least taken blood samples. For all intents and purposes, AIM didn't exist anymore (the US government and World Security Council had seen to that) but she knew it was all too easy for her details to slip into the underworld of scientific testing. For all she knew, her blood may have been destroyed weeks ago, but until she was certain, she would keep looking – she couldn't afford not to.

"Have you and Rogers got any plans tonight?" Rumlow asked conversationally as they made their way from the debriefing room. Hermione and Steve didn't go out of their way to make their relationship a secret but it still wasn't widely known. Despite their protestations, Fury had made it clear that he didn't want them working on assignments together, which had led to Rumlow's awareness of their romantic situation.

"Not really," she answered. "Most of the time it's pointless to try and plan ahead when neither of us know if we're going to get called in."

He chuckled. "Tell me about it. It's almost impossible to hold down a relationship in our line of work. I gave up years ago."

Hermione considered the man next to her; despite his slightly advanced age, he was still a very attractive man. Though he was a little too trigger-happy for her liking, overall, she considered him to be a good person. "Maybe it's worth another shot?" she suggested.

He sent her a dubious look. "I'm a man with too many rough edges; there's no point pretending otherwise."

"I think you're being very harsh on yourself," she objected, pressing the button for the lift, making the doors open with a hiss. "Any woman would be lucky to have you."

He glanced over at her and shook his head. "You're too damn nice, Granger."

It was dark by the time Hermione entered her apartment building. She could have apparated straight home from the Triskelion but she enjoyed the chance to get some fresh March air after her exploits in Pakistan.

She phoned Steve while she walked.

"I hear you've been busy," he said after their initial greetings and Hermione made a tutting noise.

"Who told you that?" she asked.

"I had a meeting in Operations and word filtered through about your success," he replied. "That makes it three Ten Rings raids by you in five weeks – it's a good thing I'm not competitive otherwise I'd be feeling pretty useless in comparison right now!"

Hermione frowned. She knew that Steve was teasing her, that he _really_ didn't care that she was carrying out so many large-scale missions, but she was aware that others within S.H.I.E.L.D. would be less pleased about her effectiveness – particularly the members of Rumlow's STRIKE team; she was cutting down their working hours quite dramatically.

Steve seemed to sense her gloom. "Why don't you come over mine tonight – it's only fair that I cook you dinner after your heroic feats to protect the innocent lives of this world from those intent on destroying peace at any cost!"

Hermione's lips twitched at his overly dramatic tone. "All right," she agreed. "I'll bring over a couple of products that George and Ron sent me this morning. They want to know how much I dislike them so they can predict its success in the shop. Apparently, the more I disapprove, the more popular it's likely to be! Bloody cheek!"

Steve laughed. "I look forward to it."

"I'll be there in about fifteen minutes," she promised. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Hermione's heart fluttered the same way it always did when she heard Steve say those words to her. She'd felt close to him very soon after their first meeting but that sensation had only intensified over the last seven months of their relationship, especially since she'd revealed everything to Steve about her experiences in the wizarding world. His ability to take everything in his stride during their trip to the UK had solidified her resolve to open up to him.

His introduction to her friends and culture had almost gone without a hitch until Hermione had realised she couldn't sit down to dinner with Ron when everyone else knew that she'd been lying to him for months. Hermione knew she'd been naïve to think that she could introduce Steve to Ron and Ginny without revealing her double life. She was so used to keeping things from her colleagues at S.H.I.E.L.D and her friends in the US, but it wasn't as easy to do the same with people she'd known for half her life.

Unsurprisingly, Ron hadn't taken the news very well and abruptly left, his face a mixture of anger and hurt. Hermione had wanted to go after him but Harry and Ginny advised against it, suggesting they give him time to cool off. The rest of the evening was fairly stilted, though they'd all done their best to keep the atmosphere light and the conversation flowing.

"I'll go check on him," Harry had promised when she'd hugged him goodbye. "He'll come around."

"Thank you," Hermione replied gratefully.

Harry had pulled back and looked at her contemplatively, before quietly saying, "Please don't hold back from telling Steve about the past on my account." Her eyes darted to Steve, who was chatting amiably to Ginny, and she swallowed thickly, her heart thumping rapidly. "You deserve the chance to have a completely open relationship with the man you love."

Hermione had felt a rush of gratitude to her best friend. Strictly speaking, she knew that she didn't _need_ Harry's permission to tell Steve about their battle against Voldemort and all that had happened before and since, but for him to give a blessing, of sorts, was heartening.

It had taken a few days to pluck up the courage to put the Statute of Secrecy aside so firmly for Steve. Part of her was horrified at how comprehensively she was breaking the most fundamental law of magical kind. However, when she looked back on all she had done to protect the wizarding world both during her Hogwarts days and her time with S.H.I.E.L.D, she thought that maybe she _did_ deserve this after all.

So that Steve wouldn't be overwhelmed with all the information, Hermione recounted her experiences over a few days. He mostly listened to her tales in silence, only interrupting to clarify. A lot of their conversation was just a blur to her now but a few moments stood out, such as the look of amused pride on his face when she told him about her formation of Dumbledore's Army under Umbridge's reign, or how his jaw clenched as he heard about the torture she'd sustained at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. When she finally finished by briefly telling him about her years working in the ministry, they just lay together all night, getting used to the new feeling between them of complete honesty. Steve had completely worn away all of her mental and emotional barriers, but he'd done it in such a patient and caring way that it felt more like gentle waves lapping on a shore than an assault on a fortress.

Only one barrier remained between them and it made Hermione feel rather hot and excited whenever she thought about it. Physically, she felt incredibly comfortable around Steve and had no difficulty expressing her affection towards him with physical contact. They just hadn't made that final leap. That wasn't to say there hadn't been a few close calls when they'd nearly mutually given in to their desires but, so far, they'd managed to somewhat reluctantly rein themselves in. It was hardly surprising that Steve was very traditional when it came to such matters and, when he had been unaware of her whole past, Hermione had felt uncomfortable with the idea of being so intimate with Steve because it would feel like she was deceiving him, hiding from him the person she really was. Now, though, she could admit to herself that there was nothing that would hold her back from confirming that her heart, body and soul lay with Steve's.

However, the moment to tell him this hadn't come up yet (it wasn't exactly something that could be casually dropped into a conversation) and, aware of his traditional values, Hermione didn't want to pressure Steve into something he wasn't ready for. She was hardly an expert in sexual matters herself so she was seriously considering turning to someone else for advice, perhaps Pepper or Ginny, but she didn't think Steve would be happy about her talking about the intimacies of their relationship with someone else. She knew _she'd_ be annoyed if Steve talked revealingly about them to Tony, Clint or even Natasha.

Her phone vibrated to alert her to a message, effectively breaking her from her musings. It simply said: _Don't panic. NF_.

The backs of her knees tingled despite Fury's words of warning and she looked around apprehensively as she pushed open the door to her building. She knew that it would be futile to ring the number and ask Fury what the hell he was talking about because, if he'd wanted to be more explicit, then he would've been.

There was nothing untoward in the foyer and she walked over to check her mailbox like she normally did. A single, mint-green envelope lay inside and she fished it out, surprised to see that there was no postage stamp or an address written on the front; only her name. She recognised the handwriting but couldn't quite place its owner.

Hermione slid her finger along the back and took out the card within, curiously taking in the jolly, _Thank You_ , message displayed on the front, before opening it to see what message lay inside.

 _I owe you my life._

Hermione gasped, shock racing through her body at she took in the familiar squiggly signature underneath.

The door to her building opened again and she knew, without having to look up, who had just entered.

* * *

A/N Dun dun dun! OK, it's not really much of a cliffhanger seeing as I'm pretty sure we all know who that is.

So, um, I might have been somewhat _liberal_ with Hermione and the others' responses to the Statute of Secrecy. If I was being wholly true to the HP world, Hermione wouldn't have taken Steve to Diagon Alley, quidditch or told me barely anything about magic. But, for me, the fun of writing a crossover fic is to actually have the characters' lives _cross over_ because it's interestingto have them experience settings and characters that we already know so well. Hermione has fully crossed over into the Marvel-verse and it would be a shame for someone else not to have a taste of the wizarding world. Also, if Hermione hadn't shared her past with Steve I don't think their relationship would have survived because she'd feel too deceitful; I think to not share those momentous and emotional experiences with someone so close to you would be very stifling and restricting.

As for the muggle riding a broom thing, I'm really not sure whether that would work or not (so goodness knows why I kept it in!). The broom has loads of spells on it to enable it to fly and hover etc. and the person riding it has to steer it using their grip and body position. So, potentially, muggles could do that, right? The line I've taken is that they _can,_ just not very well. I'm probably wrong but, actually, it's not really that important to the story!

Let me know what you think! Your responses really do shape this story even though it's already been written. I had to make _a lot_ of edits to this chapter after taking in your suggestions from the last few weeks.

So, until next time!

Lil Drop of Magic


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Hi guys! Little Christmas present for you! :)

Thanks for all your support as usual.

Not as many of you as I thought there would be correctly identified the person. Serves me right for using a green envelope! Sorry!

Again, this chapter is quite _different_. There's a good chance a decent number of you won't have much clue what's going on but I've tried to explain as best as I could so I hope you can follow it!

* * *

The door to her building opened again and she knew, without having to look up, who had just entered. A dozen thoughts whirled through her head as she took in the sight of Agent Phil Coulson, very much alive.

"Hi," he said simply.

Hermione stared at him, unable to form any sort of sentence. Coulson walked forwards tentatively. "This is a _nice_ surprise, right?" he asked in a mostly joking fashion but he seemed a little nervous too.

The card fluttered to the floor as Hermione threw her arms around him. "Yes, it's a nice surprise," she murmured through sobs and laughter as she clung to him tightly and he embraced her too. As wonderful as it was to have Coulson back, there were too many questions that she was bursting to ask. She pulled back and opened her mouth to start her onslaught but he held up a hand.

"Maybe we'd better go somewhere more private first," he suggested and Hermione nodded, realising that was a wise move. She somehow managed to hold her tongue all the way to her apartment and Coulson looked at her with a knowing expression. "Pardon the pun, but, this is totally killing you, right?"

"Of course it is," she agreed with gritted teeth as she struggled to insert the key into the lock due to her shaking hands. "And this definitely isn't the time for your awful jokes." When her apartment was finally unlocked by both muggle and magical means, she opened the door for him and watched, still dumbfounded, as Coulson entered in front of her.

"Wow, you're such a slob," Coulson muttered teasingly, looking around at her immaculately clean apartment.

"You were _dead_!" Hermione cried, unable to keep it in any longer. "I was there; you died right in front of me! Your eyes were open and, and there was _nothing_ looking out of them." She held a hand to her head in consternation. "I… I don't _understand_ this."

Coulson looked at her sympathetically. "Technically you're right; I was dead, but only for a matter of seconds."

Hermione cast her mind back to the horrific events in the helicarrier's holding cell. She'd performed the most effective healing spell she knew and, despite Coulson's grievous injuries, she'd had high hopes that all was going to be well. After Fury had laid a hand on her shoulder to break the news, Hermione had stared at Coulson's lifeless body in denial.

"Your magic healed my wounds and all the medical team had to do was restart my heart," Coulson replied.

Hermione's brow creased in confusion. "No, that can't be right. My spell was incomplete – you," she swallowed thickly as echoes of the emotions she felt that day reverberated in her mind, "you _died_ before I had repeated the incantation the correct number of times."

"Well, it must have done more good than you think because otherwise I wouldn't be standing here!"

He smiled simply at her and Hermione had to clamp down on the further objections that she wanted to voice. She wasn't convinced that her half-completed spell would have healed Coulson enough for muggles to revive him (especially considering the seriousness of his wounds) but there was no point arguing that with Coulson – the man had been dead at the time after all.

"I really do owe you my life, Hermione," he said warmly. "Thank you."

Her mind ached at the conflicting thoughts and emotions. She didn't exactly feel like she deserved the gratitude that Coulson was sending her way. For the first few days following his 'death', she'd been wracked with guilt, convinced that her mental block on the healing spell had cost Coulson his life. But, after reflecting on it, she'd realised her supposed _mental block_ was a rather apt description, most likely caused by Loki's penetration of her mind. The revelation that she would have had a much higher chance of saving Coulson's life had it not been for the Asgardian's interference had lessened the guilt but brought forward a renewed wave of anguish. However, none of that mattered now, for here he was in front of her.

"You're welcome," she mumbled in reply, a small part of her still convinced that she was dreaming. "But…" she made some quick mental calculations and her temper flared, "that was ten months ago! Where have you been?!" she asked, hands on hips.

For a moment, Coulson looked amused at her tone of voice but a more solemn expression settled in his features. A shiver ran up her spine; she'd never seen her normally cool, calm and collected friend look so haunted. "I _died,_ Hermione," he replied quietly, the smallest of cracks in his voice. "It might only have been for a few moments but that's not something you can just jump back up from."

"No, of course not," she replied, her anger deflating. "But…did you not realise that we still thought you were dead? Why didn't Fury tell us straight away that you'd been resuscitated?"

"If I recall correctly, there were rather more pressing matters to attend to at the time," Coulson reminded her lightly and then he held out a conciliatory hand. "I was probably too casual earlier when I described my recovery from the stabbing. Apparently, even with your spell I was hovering between life and death for quite a while. I can only assume the Director didn't want to get your hopes up should I not pull through."

Hermione pursed her lips. If what Coulson said was true, Fury knew that her magical healing would surely have been of use at that time. She was certainly going to have a lot of questions for the Director the next time she saw him.

"It turns out that if you die in the line of duty," Coulson continued his voice lighter once more, "S.H.I.E.L.D. are happy to send you to a top resort to recuperate, well, if you come back to life that is."

Hermione's lips twitched despite herself. "I hope the location was suitably exotic for you."

"Tahiti," Coulson replied, a twinkle in his eye. "It's a magical place. Anyway, it was a few weeks into my stay there that I realised most people were in the dark about me. At first, I assumed that everyone was too busy to visit or wanted to give me space but I knew that nothing would've kept _you_ away for that long."

"You're darn right, it wouldn't," Hermione agreed.

"But so many months had gone past. I wanted to tell you but I didn't know how so… I didn't." Coulson shook his head. "It's surprisingly easy to put the rest of the world to one side when you're being massaged on a beach with the softest white sand and most beautiful turquoise water you've ever seen." He sighed contentedly. "My whole time there is a bit of a blur really, but it was stupid to put off telling you; the longer something is kept hidden, the harder it is to reveal the truth."

Hermione ignored the uneasy feeling those words created in her stomach. "So why tell me now? What's changed?"

"I'm getting back in the field," he explained simply. "Fury's asked me to assemble a team."

"Oh," Hermione said in surprise.

"Given your security clearance, you were bound to hear about me sooner or later and it wouldn't do our friendship justice to let you find out that way," he added.

"Oh," she said again. "You… you don't want me on your team then?" she asked, unable to keep a trace of disappointment from her voice.

He laughed. "I'd love to, but to be honest you're a little overqualified now, given your Avenger status. You're far too effective in your current setup for Fury to risk moving you into an inexperienced team. But you can be sure I'll have your number on speed dial."

Hermione smiled, mollified. "So, who _do_ you have in mind?"

* * *

"You know what bothers me about the Battle of New York?" Skye asked, pausing in her pounding of the punch bag that Ward was holding steady for her.

"Many things, as you've told me countless times," he replied, not looking comfortable with the topic of conversation. "Don't stop."

Skye punched the bag a few times to mollify him. "Why aren't there any 'Sorceress' action figures?"

" _That's_ what's bothering you?" he said, eyebrow raised in surprise. "You're worried she's not getting any royalty fees?"

Skye looked at him. "Wait – those guys get paid to have little dolls of themselves? Can't we put a few Skye dolls on the shelves, see how those go down?"

"You think you're in the same league as the Avengers?"

" _No…_ " she said, dragging out the word to show that she was _obviously_ joking. "As a fellow woman, I just think it's unfair that she misses out on some of the credit."

"Uh huh," Ward said, not sounding convinced. "In all of your 'Rising Tide' stuff, did you ever get any footage of her?"

Skye punched the bag a couple of times with a frown. "No."

"And if _you_ couldn't do that, how are the toy companies supposed to know what she looks like?" he pointed out.

Skye shook her head. "It still sucks if you ask me."

"I didn't," Ward reminded her. "Now quit stalling – the session's nowhere near over."

If Ward thought that was the end to her questions, he was sadly mistaken. After a couple more minutes, Skye paused again. "Have you ever met her?"

He sighed at her never-ending inquiries. "No."

She narrowed her eyes at him and then she grinned excitedly. "You _have_! You totally have! Tell me about her. In my mind she's like this kick-ass heroine who takes no prisoners and really rocks a bandanna."

"I have never seen the Sorceress," Ward insisted but Skye shook her head.

"You're hiding something," she claimed, nudging him with her glove. "Come on," she wheedled. "I literally know nothing about this woman and she's the best one of the lot! Are you honestly telling me you've never been in her company? Not for a single second?"

"You're annoying. You know that?"

"Yes, and _you_ know that I'm not going to leave you alone until you answer me!" she persisted.

Unfortunately, he was well aware of that. "Look, I told you, I never saw her. I was part of her final assessment to gain 'Agent' status. I was in an office that she was supposed to break into."

" _And_?" Skye prompted, eyes wide.

"Next thing I know, I'm waking up on the floor an hour later."

"Woah. What'd she do to you?" Skye asked sounding impressed.

"No idea. They wouldn't tell me," Ward admitted. "But I never felt a thing and I didn't have any wounds."

Skye nodded slowly. "She sounds so awesome."

Ward shrugged. "Using powers is cheating."

"It's still awesome," she insisted but then frowned when she recalled something he'd said. "So she's an actual S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, not just a random superhero?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "she's one of us."

Skye wasn't sure that she identified with the whole 'us' label just yet, but it was interesting to know that the Sorceress was involved in the S.H.I.E.L.D. system too. "And you don't know _anything_ else about her? Nothing's filtered through the agent grapevine?"

"Just that she's the best asset we've ever had. She's very well protected."

"Huh. So they're not going to lend out a biography on her to someone like me?" Skye asked pessimistically.

"Definitely not."

* * *

"Guys, guys, guys," Skye said quickly, rushing into the lab where FitzSimmons were working on something she'd doubtless have no chance of understanding. "You'll never guess what Ward just told me."

"Skye, that sounds like a really fun game with plenty of humorous possible answers but we're a little busy," Simmons said, dropping liquid into a petrie dish with a pipette.

"All right, I'll get straight to the point," Skye replied, not bothered by their lack of enthusiasm. "Ward has had a run in with the Sorceress! I mean, it sounds like it only lasted about one second and he doesn't actually know anything about her, but that's _so_ cool, right?" She looked at them both excitedly, expecting them to share in her enthusiasm. FitzSimmons paused in their work and gave each other a nervous look.

"Well, that is _fascinating_ , Skye." Fitz said, moving forward to usher her from the lab. "Thank you for sharing that with us. But, as Simmons said, we're very busy right now so…"

Skye looked between them in confusion. Why were they acting like this wasn't a big deal? " _Wait!_ " she gasped, understanding clicking into place. " _You've_ met her too!" FitzSimmons shared another look but it was definitely more panicked this time. "I can't believe you haven't told me!" she cried. "So, have you actually seen her?" Skye asked eagerly. "You have, haven't you? Is she young? Old? Does she actually look human? What colour's her bandana?"

Fitz frowned. "She doesn't wear a bandana."

"Aha!" Skye crowed and Simmons hit him on the arm for revealing anything. "So you _have_ seen her. OK, spill. I want to know everything."

" _No_ ," they chorused, sounding more alike than ever.

Skye held her hands up questioningly. "Why not?" she shrugged.

"You haven't got clearance," Simmons said weakly, looking apologetic.

"Secrecy is everything where the Sorceress is concerned," Fitz added. "If we want to work with her again, we can't go blabbing about her to every nosy-Nellie we come across."

"But… You've got to give me something!" Skye whined. "I'll go crazy!"

"Fine," Simmons said, putting down her pipette. "She's a woman."

"And a Sorceress," Fitz chipped in.

Skye's shoulders slumped. "You guys suck."

* * *

Barely an unusual mission went past where Skye didn't suggest at one point for them to get in touch with the Sorceress to check that she wasn't responsible or couldn't give them some advice. Everyone's patience was beginning to wear thin.

Skye knew her chances of ever finding out anything extra about the Sorceress were severely dampened by the whole 'Miles' fiasco. They weren't about to trust her with one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s biggest secrets after she'd gotten in contact with her ex-boyfriend to warn him that her team were on to him.

But that didn't stop her trying.

"You know the Sorceress, right?" she asked Coulson one day when there wasn't an imminent disaster for them to deal with.

"We've met," he answered vaguely, not lifting his eyes from the folder he was perusing.

"She's an Agent too, isn't she? Not just one of your run of the mill superheroes."

"There's nothing run-of-the-mill where she's concerned," he murmured.

"So, you knew her before New York?" Skye asked, hoping that she might actually get some answers for once.

"Yes."

"And she has lots of abilities, doesn't she?" she pressed. "Not just ones we've seen where people can only do one thing, like fire."

"She's very gifted," Coulson agreed, still reading.

"Right… Do you think I'll ever get to meet her?"

This finally caught his attention. He looked at her with one of his unreadable expressions. "Why do you want to?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Is that a trick question?"

"No."

"Because… because…" Where did she start?

"Because you want to find her secrets and reveal them to the world?" he asked emotionlessly.

"No!" she objected.

"That used to be your motto," Coulson pointed out.

"I've changed," Skye insisted, strangely hurt by his accusation. "I wouldn't do that anymore."

Coulson regarded her quietly for a moment. "She's still a person, you know," he said eventually. "Inside, she's just like anyone else. She has the same fears for the ones she loves, enjoys spending time with her friends, works hard to improve herself…"

"Is that a subtle hint for me to study the S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol book again?" Skye asked with a faux-accusatory tone. Coulson smiled and she relaxed. "You sound like you know her well," she said softly.

"I should think so – I _was_ one of her SOs," he revealed as though this wasn't huge news to Skye.

" _What?!"_

* * *

A week later, Skye walked towards the lab, her session with Ward cut short when May interrupted to say she needed to speak with him. Ward had suggested she go and do some studying but it would be much more fun to rope FitzSimmons into eavesdropping on Ward and May with her.

"Thanks for your help. I'll let you know how I get on."

Skye frowned at the unfamiliar female voice. It had an English accent but it definitely wasn't Simmons talking. There was a popping sound as Skye turned the corner to enter the lab but it was just Fitzsimmons there. They looked surprised to see her.

"Skye!" Simmons gasped, glancing at Fitz quickly. "Don't you think his English accent is getting better?"

Really? They were going to try that? "Yeah," she nodded, playing along. "It sounded good, a bit girly, but _much_ improved. Let's hear it again, Fitz."

He looked a little like a rabbit staring down the barrel of a farmer's gun but he cleared his throat. "Hello, Skye," he said, adopting a high-pitched voice to accompany his atrocious accent. "How are you this fine afternoon?"

Skye pursed her lips and nodded slowly at his pathetic attempt while Simmons licked her lips nervously. "OK, so who were you really talking to?" Skye asked seriously.

FitzSimmons exchanged a look, making Skye gasp. She _knew_ that look. They wore it whenever she tried to badger information out of them about the Sorceress. "She was _here_? Like, right here?" she said pointing to the spot she was standing in. " _You guys_! _Seriously_? How could you not tell me?"

FitzSimmons sighed, not even bothering to point out for the hundredth time that they weren't allowed to tell her. It was better to just let Skye rant in these situations.

"So, she can just pop in and out of a vehicle that's flying thousands of feet over Asia? That's _so_ cool," she groaned. "And she's English?" Skye shook her head. "I didn't see that coming at all! Ugh, I can't believe I was only a few feet away from her."

"You need to tone down the crazy," Fitz suggested, looking at her worriedly. "We could stick you outside the bottom of Avengers Tower right now and you'd completely fit in."

Skye waved him away. She wasn't some loony, she just found the idea of the Sorceress very exciting. _Who wouldn't_?

"Please," Simmons scoffed, looking at him with a frown. "You nearly passed out when we first met her."

"And _you_ curtsied!" he shot back.

Skye ran off to go and tell Ward the exciting news. Luckily, he'd finished his conversation with May because she didn't want the sombre Agent around to kill her buzz.

"You'll never guess who was just here!" she gushed when she saw him. Ward stared at her for a moment.

"The Sorceress," he replied simply.

Her jaw dropped. "How did you know? Did you meet with her?"

"No. You've got the same obsessed look on your face that you always do whenever she's brought up," he explained. "And you said they were _just_ here – there's not many people who can leave the 'bus' mid-flight."

"She was meeting with FitzSimmons," Skye said, choosing to ignore the 'obsessed' comment. "Do you wanna look back on the security footage with me?"

"No."

" _Really?_ You don't want to know anything else about her?"

"Trust the system, Skye," he reminded her. She was really sick of that mantra. "If we're meant to find out about The Sorceress, we will. For now, it's best to show a bit of self-restraint."

Skye considered his words for about ten seconds before heading off to look at the footage.

Unfortunately, there was nothing but squiggly black and white lines on the screen, and static coming from the audio. It was highly unlikely that was a coincidence.

Well played, Sorceress. Well played.

* * *

Skye _did not_ trust 'The System'.

Ward and Fitz had been sent off on a classified mission to South Ossetia while the rest of the team had to stand around in the Hub, clueless about what was going on. Well, she and Simmons did. Coulson was obviously aware of the details of the operation and Skye strongly suspected that May did too but it was almost impossible to tell where the stony faced agent was concerned. May had told her to wait for news and then react, but that wasn't exactly Skye's way of doing things; she needed answers. Normally Skye would use her laptop to do a little digging into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files but, with her annoying bracelet keeping tabs on every electronic swipe and click she did, she'd have to do a little manual reconnaissance before she'd be willing to risk Coulson's wrath.

But, hopefully, it wouldn't come to that if she could just talk to Coulson herself and make him see how ridiculous it was to start changing the way their team operated. They were a _team_ for a reason; so they could have each other's backs. She and Simmons couldn't do that when they didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Let's take a couple of walks past Operations," Skye suggested to Simmons, feeling uncomfortable at the other woman's doe-eyed stare as she fretted over her best friend. "Maybe we'll see or overhear anything that we can take to Coulson."

Simmons nodded, looking pleased to do something to try and help.

"First, we'll walk past Operations together," Skye instructed as they made their way through the Hub. "And then we'll come back one at a time to give us more of a chance of spotting something." Simmons nodded.

There wasn't too much to see from their restricted positions but they still went separate ways on the return. Skye waited for Simmons just around the corner, taking the occasional peek to check what was going on.

"Excuse me," a voice said behind her, making her jump. She turned quickly, prepared to defend her presence but she saw it was just a woman, similar in age to herself.

"Er, hi," Skye said shortly.

"Hi, I'm Saskia. You're Skye, right?" the girl asked, her accent noticeably British.

Skye drew her eyebrows together in surprise. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"Agent Coulson sent me. He said to look for the young woman with the long dark hair, rebellious expression and lack of security pass," she replied, looking somewhat apologetic. Skye grimaced at the tracking bracelet that Coulson told her she wore in lieu of the badges everyone else was sporting. "He suggested you would be able to help me with this." Saskia held out a small interactive tablet.

Skye quickly glanced around the corner again but there was no sign of Simmons yet so she accepted the device. Talking to this random agent was actually the perfect cover. "Uh, sure, what do you need?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has suspicions that this facility is related in some way to the Centipede Project," Saskia explained, pointing to the company logo. "The fact that its files are so difficult to crack only deepens these misgivings. Do you think you can bypass their security?"

In the few seconds she'd had to look, Skye knew it would take barely half a minute to hack the site. "Coulson definitely sent you, right? This isn't some elaborate test to see if I'm following the rules?"

Saskia smiled. "Agent Coulson recommended you, I promise. He said you already have experience of the Centipede Project and that your hacking skills are second to none."

Skye started tapping away at the screen but one of her eyebrows arched at Saskia's words. "That's one of his better compliments," she allowed. "But if I _do_ get Coulson on my back after this, I'm holding you entirely responsible."

"Fair enough," Saskia agreed light-heartedly.

The sound of many feet echoing down the corridor made Skye look up from her work. A large number of men trooped past in full tactical gear, a couple of them carrying crates labelled as holding rocket propelled grenades. She watched with wide eyes as they marched past her towards Operations and joined with a number of smartly dressed people that Skye strongly suspected were analysts. Fitz and Ward's mission was even more dangerous than she'd previously thought if it involved a small-scale army!

She quickly inputted the final commands to give Saskia the access she needed and practically thrust the device back at her. "Done!" Skye looked around the corner again and saw Simmons walking concernedly towards her.

"Oh, thank you, Skye," Saskia said gratefully. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem," she replied, taking a couple of steps backwards to bring the conversation to an end. "I'll see you around."

Skye hurried over to Simmons. "Did you see all those men – and the RPG's? This isn't good."

Simmons was wearing an intrigued expression on her face. "Who were you just talking to?"

Skye waved her hand dismissively. "Just some agent that Coulson wanted me to do a favour for, um, Saskia somebody? That's not important. Didn't you hear me? All those weapons and troops means Fitz and Ward must be in serious danger. I've gotta talk to Coulson about this. Come on."

Simmons still had a strange look on her face but she dutifully followed Skye in the hopes that they'd be able to help their team.

* * *

It turned out, Skye was _right_ not to trust the system. If she had, Ward and Fitz would almost certainly be dead right now. Instead, thanks to the hacking Skye did into the Hub's mainframe, she was able to convince May to act on the news that there was no extraction plan for Fitz and Ward. Even Coulson gave their flight to South Ossetia the seal of approval, leading Skye to believe that he'd been unaware of the lack of relief team too.

She knew that Coulson was pissed at her for snooping into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files _again_ , but Skye wouldn't hesitate to repeat her actions if it meant she saved the lives of people she cared about.

Skye grabbed a cushion from her bed and hugged it against her chest. It had been an anxious couple of days.

"Hey, thanks again for your help yesterday."

Skye looked up at the voice and let out a yelp of surprise at the sight of Saskia standing in the doorway. Her eyes widened at the realization of _who_ exactly Saskia was and she leapt to her feet with a gasp, her hands covering her mouth. "Oh my God," she murmured, staring at her avidly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump," Saskia said lightly.

Skye dropped her hands to her side and tried to act as though standing opposite a living, breathing sorceress wasn't the coolest moment of her life.

"Are you alright, Skye?" Fitz's concerned voice called from a few yards away. Skye poked her head around the door and saw him and Simmons hurrying towards her. "We heard you scream."

Saskia stepped out from behind Skye and FitzSimmons halted immediately, before looks of understanding came over their faces.

"I _knew_ it was you that Skye was talking to in the Hub!" Simmons said brightly, resuming her walk towards them.

Skye was on the verge of pointing out that Simmons totally should've told her that earlier but she was determined not to come across as the crazy Sorceress fangirl the rest of the team were convinced she was. She already felt stupid for not realizing that Saskia was the Sorceress the second she heard her English accent, but she honestly hadn't expected the Avenger to be so young and, well, _normal_ looking.

"I was on rather a tight schedule," Saskia explained. "Otherwise I would have popped in to say hello and wish you luck in your mission, Fitz. Coulson was just telling me all about it."

Fitz's chest puffed out slightly. "Ah, it was no big deal. Just your usual dangerous op with Russian mobs, separatists and weapon-destroying devices."

Saskia smiled. "Quite. And I hear that bracelet hasn't exactly stopped your unsanctioned hacking," she said turning to Skye.

"Oh. You heard about that, huh?" Skye felt her cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

Saskia shrugged. "Rules are there for a reason and I'm someone who'll follow them to the letter…" Skye crossed her arms defensively over her chest but Saskia continued, "Until there's a very good reason not to, that is."

Skye looked at her in surprise. "You don't really come across as the rebel type, but, then again, I never thought Simmons would shoot a superior officer in the chest either."

Simmons smiled broadly. "It's always the quiet ones you need to watch out for."

Skye felt her spirits soar. She already knew she'd done the right thing by breaking into those files but it was reassuring to get the nod of approval from someone like Saskia. "I'm not going to leak your secret," Skye blurted out to her and then flushed again. "You know, if you were worried or anything."

"Thanks, but I'm not worried," she replied calmly.

"Yeah, what sort of an idiot would get on the bad side of the Sorceress?" Fitz asked incredulously and then he tilted his head in thought. "Just out of interest, what _would_ you do to someone to get your revenge?"

Saskia's eyes glinted and she opened her mouth to reply but Ward's voice called out to them.

"Hey, what's going on her – _woah_ ," he added, noticing the unexpected additional person. Skye grinned because it was always hilarious to watch Ward lose his ultra-serious demeanour even for a split second.

"Hi, you must be Agent Ward," Saskia greeted, holding out her hand. "I'm Agent Hailsham-Grey." Ward shook her hand, his expression showing that he knew Saskia's alternate identity as the Sorceress.

"It's an honour to meet you," Ward replied, sounding like he genuinely meant it.

Saskia peered at him for a moment, a puzzled look on her face. "Have we met before? Your face looks familiar."

"Uh, not exactly," Ward muttered, looking uncomfortable.

Skye smirked gleefully. "He was part of your test to gain agent status," she revealed as Ward sent her a disapproving frown. "You knocked him out for an hour but he has no recollection of even being aware of you sneaking up on him."

Saskia's eyes widened with realisation. "Oh, yes, in the office of the nightclub, I remember. Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Ward murmured.

Saskia tucked some of her bushy hair behind her ear and Skye noticed the charm bracelet encircling her wrist. "Ah, cool, is that a little Captain America shield?" she asked, pointing at the particular charm.

Saskia glanced at her wrist, surprised by the change in conversation. "Yes, it is."

"Ooh, do you have something for each Avenger?" Simmons enquired, peering at the jewellery too, and Skye raked her eyes over the charms looking for a little arrow, a spider, hammer or something similar.

Saskia stiffened a little under their scrutiny. "Um, no I don't actually."

"Oh," Simmons replied in disappointment and then her eyes widened dramatically. " _Oh!_ "

Skye's jaw dropped a little as she obviously came to the same conclusion as Simmons. " _Woah_."

Fitz looked somewhat confused at the girls' reactions and he glanced between the bracelet and Saskia's slightly awkward demeanour with a calculating look on his face. "Wait… you and Captain America are… You two are…?"

Saskia nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear again. "Er, yes, we are."

"This is _so_ exciting!" Simmons trilled, grinning from ear to ear.

Ward looked around at them all with extreme distaste.

* * *

Steve was gazing at her in concern. "Are you sure you're up for this? We don't have to go."

Hermione reached upwards, stretching out the muscles in her arms and back to revive her a little. "I'm fine, honestly; I _want_ to go. It feels like ages since we've been in New York together."

"But you've travelled at least ten thousand miles in the last twenty-four hours," he pointed out, " _and_ infiltrated three facilities suspected of having links with AIM."

Hermione slipped a pair of flats onto her feet and grabbed her handbag from where it was resting on the arm of his couch. "Steve, sweetheart, I know you're looking out for me, but I'm used to being so busy. _We_ are going to have a nice evening in our city and that's that, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his lips pulling into a small grin. Hermione rolled her eyes a little but leant up and quickly kissed him before taking his hand and apparating them to her safe point in Manhattan.

Steve had moved down to DC about nine months ago when he'd made his initial commitment to working with S.H.I.E.L.D. But it was New York that had been the making of them _;_ both as individuals within the Avengers and also the _two of them_ as a partnership.

"So, where do you want to go?" Steve asked as they emerged from the alley onto Bleecker Street.

Hermione tilted her head, considering. "Nothing comes to mind. How about we wander for a bit and see if we get any inspiration?"

They had been walking and talking leisurely for about ten minutes before Steve announced that he had an idea what they could do. When Hermione asked him for details he shook his head and proclaimed it a secret.

Hermione's smile widened at the lack of details. In their line of work, they experienced enough twists and turns every day to stop them from desiring the same for their private lives. A simple, drama-free relationship was all that Hermione wanted at the end of a planet-hopping, enemy-defeating day. However, that wasn't to say that Steve wouldn't surprise her with a bouquet of flowers or a new charm for her bracelet every other week, and Hermione would sometimes magic them away to a beautiful location for some relaxation when they were reasonably confident that S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be in need of them for a few hours.

Steve led her down to the subway and Hermione couldn't help but consider the possible locations he had in mind as they travelled northwards. As they neared Grand Central, he stood, showing that this was where they would be departing.

"Are we getting another train?" she asked.

"You're finding this whole 'secret' thing a bit difficult to grasp, aren't you?" he teased.

Hermione scowled in mock-offence and Steve quickly kissed her to undo the damage.

The station was one of the first buildings to complete its repairs after the Battle of New York. As Steve brought her onto the sidewalk, she saw that many others were still incomplete nearly a year later. They crossed Lexington Avenue and Hermione realised it was almost exactly a year since the Chitauri has descended on the city. In some ways, it felt like that day was in the distant past but the clear cut memories that were resurrected amongst the familiar landmarks made it feel like it could have all happened yesterday.

She stumbled slightly as Steve came to an abrupt halt on the corner of 42nd and Lexington. He looked at Hermione expectantly.

"This is where we first met!" she exclaimed with sudden realisation. "Hang on…" She did some calculations in her head, "Was it a year ago _today_?"

Steve's arms encircled her waist, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back and he nodded in confirmation as the crowds continued to stream past them. "May 1st 2012, Nick Fury tells me to meet one of his agents outside the Chrysler Building to start my re-entry into the world," he narrated, looking fondly down at her. "I get here early because I've got nothing else to do with my time, and after a couple of minutes, I hear this polite, enquiring voice behind me. I turn, and just like that, my already drastically altered life changes again, but this time for the better."

"Oh, you're sure about that, are you?" Hermione questioned teasingly.

"Quite sure," he replied, eyes twinkling. He removed his arms from her waist and took one of her hands in his, leading her back along 42nd. "Anyway, one of the first things I learn about this Agent Hermione Granger is that _apparently_ she likes books."

"Can we go to the library?" Hermione asked eagerly. "We haven't been in _ages_!" Which was true enough because once Steve had become more familiar with modern technology, they had found it easier to use the internet to research important things he had missed whilst frozen.

" _And_ that the New York Public Library is her favourite building in the city," Steve continued with a grin.

Already feeling giddy at the loving way that Steve was speaking about her, Hermione's spirits lifted even further at the sight of the aforementioned library, which looked as beautiful as ever amid the orange glow of the setting sun.

"When we first came to this library," Steve resumed as they ascended the gleaming white steps, "I behaved like a judgemental jerk."

"Don't!" Hermione objected, not wanting him to bring up a memory that she'd long ago cast aside.

"But she didn't hold it against me when, mere hours later, we were tasked to join forces to combat a somewhat sinister Norse god and his alien army." He held the door open for her as they trod the familiar path towards what had been 'their' study room. "Over the coming days, weeks and months, I discovered that, in _so_ many ways, she was the most incredible person I would ever have the extremely good fortune to meet."

Hermione stared at him, completely speechless at the way he was talking about her. Her heart felt so overwhelmed that she wouldn't be surprised if it just ceased working at any moment.

Steve opened the door to the small room and, at first, Hermione thought that the lights had been turned off, but then she saw the flickering lights of dozens of small candles scattered within. She pulled back at his arm. "Steve, we shouldn't be in here, there must be some sort of event planned."

He ignored her comment and tugged her forwards so he could shut the door. Hermione's eyes widened with understanding and she covered her mouth with her hands. The idea of coming to the library _hadn't_ been a spontaneous idea; he'd planned for this all along!

She looped her arms around his neck, but kept her gaze on the scene he'd created for them. "Oh, Steve, it's _beautiful_ ," she murmured. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she saw the multitude of flowers that lined the shelves in place of the usual books, and the large cushions that had replaced the table and chairs.

She was dreaming; she had to be, for this was nothing short of perfect.

"When I woke up last year, I was lost," Steve said quietly, drawing Hermione's eyes back to him. "I was alive in the world but just drifting past it, cut off from everything and everyone. You anchored me, gave me something to tie myself to."

Hermione could feel her heart pounding rapidly in her chest as she took in his intense gaze.

"In the last twelve months," he continued, "you've gone from an acquaintance, to a colleague, a friend, a confidante, a girlfriend and to the woman I love more than I can say. You're the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. I don't _ever_ want that to change."

He gently removed her arms from around his neck and pulled out a small, black box from his pocket, making her gasp.

After lowering himself onto one knee, he pulled the lid of the box open, looked up at her and said, "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

* * *

A/N Another cliffhanger for you there! You are _very_ welcome!

A few things to note this time. First, I have cut out sixth months between Iron Man 3 and the start of Season 1 of Agents of SHIELD because maintaining that gap would have just made the pace of the story a bit 'bleh'. So everything else (like Thor 2, etc.) has jumped forwards half a year too. If you haven't seen Agents of SHIELD then I apologise if this was a little confusing for you, but I couldn't resist just dipping into that part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I could write _a lot_ about Hermione linking up with Coulson's team but I'm not because it would just go on forever. That being said, I LOVED writing these little scenes about how the team perceive her. Another thing worth mentioning because I care about the little details and I know some of you do too [Okami Princess :)], in this fic, Coulson would also let Steve know that he was alive because he wouldn't want a secret like that to get in the way of Steve and Hermione's relationship (which, unsurprisingly, he is a HUGE fan of).

So, next time, we find out Hermione's answer and she also investigates some strange happenings in an abandoned factory in London...

Happy holidays to you all and if you feel like dropping some season's greetings my way it would be appreciated!

Love,

Lil Drop of Magic


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Happy New Year, guys! Hope 2016 brings you everything you want :) Thanks for your support, as always!

* * *

He was a fiance.

It still felt bizarre every time Steve remembered but he couldn't be happier and, judging by the ever-present smile on Hermione's face, the same was true for her too.

It had been some weeks since the notion to ask Hermione to marry him had first entered into his head and it had been the most unlikely of candidates, Tony Stark, no less, to suggest it in the first place.

He and Hermione had only recently returned from helping her parents move back to the UK when Tony announced a men's poker night in Avengers Tower. Steve hadn't particularly wanted to go but he recognised the bonding opportunity it presented and the alternative was sitting alone at home on a Saturday night because Hermione was going to the theatre with Pepper anyway.

In truth, it wasn't as bad as Steve had feared, although there was a strong possibility that Hermione's magically-adapted alcohol was more than a little responsible for loosening him up a bit, seeing as normal liquor never worked on him. He would even go as far as saying that he had really enjoyed himself as he gradually deprived Tony, Clint and Bruce of all their money, much to their astonishment.

"What happened to being the spokesperson for truth and honour, Cap?" Clint muttered bitterly, frowning at the sight of Steve's cards after he'd successfully bluffed his way to another win. "I'm seriously reconsidering everything I thought about you." He gulped down a couple of mouthfuls of beer and shook his head forlornly at the very small pile of betting chips he had left.

"It's almost as disconcerting as if we found out that Mickey Mouse runs a porn ring," Tony muttered, causing a few raised eyebrows.

Unfortunately, Tony had taken exception to Steve turning down the ultra-expensive liquor that was on offer in favour of Hermione's homebrew, and had seen fit to sample her beverage himself and was now suffering quite badly for it.

"How's Hermione, Steve?" Bruce asked, tactfully steering the conversation away from theoretically lecherous animated mice. "You guys still going strong?"

"No!" Tony interjected as he dealt the cards again. "No girlfriend talk on poker night: I do not need to be reminded what a crap boyfriend I am in comparison to Mr Perfect here," he added, jerking his head in Steve's direction.

"We're good," Steve answered Bruce simply, ignoring Tony's comment (and consequent disgruntled expression). "Better than ever, in fact." And this was true. After their trip to England, Hermione had finally opened up to him about her secretive past. His mind had been blown on a daily basis as she revealed more and more to him about Hogwarts and the fight against Voldemort. The intelligence, courage and utterly unswerving loyalty she had shown during that time left him in awe. And this was the woman who loved him! When it came to the women in his life, Steve knew he was a very lucky man.

Something of his thoughts showed on his face and Tony looked at him aghast. "Oh, shit, you're going to ask her to marry you."

" _What?_ " Steve said in alarm. "I don't… I hadn't," he paused and looked around at them all. "Do you think I should?"

"Of course not!" Tony replied instantly. "Pepper got jealous when you bought Granger that scrappy bracelet – I'll never hear the end of it if you put a ring on her finger too."

Clint frowned over at Tony. "Shut up, Stark. Don't put the cracks in your own relationship onto someone else."

Tony turned to the agent with a patronising look on his face. "Like _you're_ an expert when it comes to women; have you even _got_ a girlfriend, Barton?"

Clint laughed and took another sip of his beer. "I _really_ don't have time for one of those in my life."

"No one could ever call you or Hermione normal," Bruce commented, bringing an end to the bickering. "But what you've got with each other…" He shrugged. "It's something I could never have."

"Exactly," Clint agreed. "You've got lucky, Cap. If she's the one for you then why not make it official?"

Tony made yet another disparaging noise. "You two have been together for, what, four months? You'd be crazy to make such a commitment after such a short amount of time!" His expression grew more troubled. "I mean, do you even really _know_ her well enough yet?"

"I know _everything_ about her," Steve said with such conviction that Tony simply frowned at him. "And it's been _seven_ months," he corrected. If you were stepping out with someone for that long in the forties, people would assume there was an understanding between the two individuals. But this was the twenty-first century. "People don't really get engaged so soon here, do they?"

"No," Tony replied bluntly.

"Who cares?" Clint pointed out. "If you can't see any reason to wait, then don't."

Steve rotated his pair of cards between his fingers without glancing at them, thinking hard. Actually, waiting too long had already cost him once. Sure, he and Hermione were already together but he was too traditional to consider what they had now as being enough. It had always been his intention to marry one day should he ever be lucky enough to find the right girl and for some time he'd known inside that Hermione was the one but, for some reason, he'd never actually entertained the thought of _physically_ asking her to marry him… Despite what Tony might say, he was still pretty hopeless (and scared) when it came to women.

"You're all assuming she'll say yes," Steve pointed out. "Maybe she doesn't want to be engaged. We haven't really discussed the future."

"You won't know until you ask," Bruce replied.

Steve tapped his cards against the table, still musing over the idea.

Tony drained his glass with a grimace. "Me and my big mouth," he muttered. "Worst poker night ever."

Steve had many internal debates with himself in the following days and weeks. _He_ wanted to marry Hermione, that conclusion hadn't been hard to reach, but whether she wanted to enter into an engagement with him, he wasn't so sure. His biggest worry was that asking Hermione to commit to him in a way that she wasn't ready for would scare her off.

Eventually, he'd decided that it was worth the risk of her refusing his proposal for the chance that she might say yes.

And, thankfully, that was the answer she did give (but the wait between his asking of the question and her reply had felt interminable, even though it was truly just a couple of seconds). The sense of relief was almost more potent than the happiness he felt but Hermione's pure joy and excitement soon swept him along too.

They had planned to keep their engagement to themselves for a while so they could treasure this feeling without any well-meant interference from their friends and Hermione's family. This plan lasted all of three hours.

Tired from her exploits for S.H.I.E.L.D. and slightly intoxicated from the champagne she'd consumed, Hermione was convinced by Steve to spend the night at Avengers Tower rather than risk apparating them both back to DC.

"Tonight is going to be my new patronus memory," Hermione murmured happily from where she leant against his chest as they rode the elevator upwards. "Nothing can top this feeling."

"I'm glad I could make you feel happier than getting over one hundred percent on a test," Steve replied with a grin. She withdrew herself from his embrace and shoved him playfully.

"That's _not_ what my normal patronus memory is!" she objected.

"No?" he replied in mock confusion. "Oh, then it _must_ be when you first entered a library."

"Ha ha," she responded dryly as the elevator doors slid open. "I'm not so sure I want to marry you after all!"

"Woah, _what_?"

Steve and Hermione looked towards the open door, unaware that Tony, alerted to their presence by J.A.R.V.I.S, had been on the other side to greet their unexpected arrival. His eyes zeroed in on the newly placed ring on her left hand before she could tuck it out of sight.

"Congratulations on your engagement, Captain Rogers and Miss Granger," J.A.R.V.I.S commented politely. "I wish you every happiness for your impending nuptials."

Hermione and Steve thanked the computer system as they stepped out of the elevator.

"Er, yeah, same," Tony muttered, rubbing his forehead. "That's… that's great news."

"Thanks," Steve replied, shaking the congratulatory hand that Tony offered him. "We, er, hadn't really planned on telling anyone yet," he explained as Tony gave Hermione a fleeting hug.

"Oh, well that's perfect actually," Tony said, looking relieved. "Your secret's safe with me, don't worr – "

"Tony, are you coming to bed?" Pepper's voice cut across the hallway.

"Quick, take the ring off," Tony hurriedly said to Hermione under his breath, but she ignored him and looked questioningly at Steve.

"Hermione! Steve! What a lovely surprise," Pepper called over to them with a wide smile as she came into view, barefoot, but still in her work clothes.

Steve minutely shrugged his shoulders at Hermione to show that it was her decision whether or not to tell Pepper. She held his gaze for a moment longer before turning back to Pepper and simply holding her left hand up, ring glittering even in the soft lighting of the hallway.

Tony cursed under his breath and Pepper halted, her mouth dropping open slightly. She gasped. "Oh my goodness!" she squealed, hurrying forwards to wrap her arms around Hermione. " _Congratulations!_ This is so exciting! I'm so pleased for you both." She embraced Steve next and then grabbed Hermione's hand so she could get a closer look at the ring. "Oh, it's beautiful. Isn't this wonderful news, Tony?"

Thankfully, Tony was saved from having to provide a response as another voice called across to them.

"Hey, what's all the yelling about?" Clint asked walking towards them with Natasha alongside him. "Has Stark seen another spider?"

"I wasn't scared of the spider, it took me by surprise," Tony said defensively but nobody paid him any attention as Clint and Natasha spotted the ring too.

"I told you we should have phoned ahead," Steve said to her an hour later when they finally managed to excuse themselves from their friends.

"Lesson learned," Hermione agreed tiredly, hiding a yawn behind her hand as she opened the door to the same bedroom they stayed in (be it alone or together) whenever they slept in the Tower. "But now that it's out there, maybe we should tell everyone and get it over with. I can't exactly keep this from my family and friends back home when so many people know over here."

Which was how, less than forty-eight hours later, Steve found himself the focus of attention at a Weasley family Sunday lunch.

When he and Hermione had requested some leave from Fury to spend a couple of days in England to share their news, he had barked that he couldn't give a damn about their personal lives but had grudgingly agreed to the time off.

A celebratory dinner in London with Mr and Mrs Granger (who had been somewhat expecting the news after Steve had sought their blessing a couple of weeks earlier) the previous night had been swiftly followed by drinks with Harry and Ginny in the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny had nearly screamed the whole pub down in delight when the news broke. Harry had been less dramatic in his congratulations but looked just as pleased.

"You've got to come to lunch at the Burrow tomorrow," Ginny said enthusiastically but Hermione bit her lip.

"I don't know, Ginny," she said uncertainly. "I haven't seen Molly since, well, since Ron and I broke up."

Ginny waved her hand dismissively. "That was well over a year ago, she's totally over it! Mum still considers you an honorary Weasley; she'll be devastated if you don't stop over."

"She's always asking after you," Harry put in.

Hermione glanced at Steve. "Are you up to meeting more Weasleys?"

"Sure," he replied confidently. "How many can there be?"

 _A lot_ , was the answer to that question. Fourteen members of the Weasley family were in attendance for Sunday lunch and Steve was having a very difficult time remembering which name went with which face. Hermione had gone through them individually over breakfast and had even drawn him up a family tree to help him. Some family members came with warnings attached (as Geroge and Ron had done previously) such as Arthur, the patriarch of the family, who, though lovely, was fascinated by all things muggle and would undoubtedly try and monopolise Steve's time in order to quiz him about mundane things like credit cards or aeroplanes. He was also advised that Molly was the heartbeat of the family so it was important for him to get on her good side. The only other member of the family that he needed the heads up for was Fleur, the wife of Bill.

"And why do I need to watch myself around her?" Steve asked.

Hermione sipped her tea and thought over her words carefully. "Well, she's not entirely human."

Steve choked on his mouthful of toast. "I'm sorry?!"

"Her grandmother was a magical being called a Veela," she explained delicately. "They're similar to the Sirens of Greek mythology in that their looks and movements can be considered very seductive to men. Fleur inherited some of her grandmother's influence and I'm not sure if it will have a more potent effect on you because of your lack of magic. Hopefully she'll be too distracted with her two young daughters to spend any time trying to charm you."

Thankfully, Hermione's prediction about Fleur's priorities proved true and he barely saw her, busy as she was tending to Victoire and Dominique.

The first half an hour at The Burrow was a somewhat madcap mixture of introductions, congratulations and questions that he was just about able to emerge from unscathed. He made sure to be polite to Mrs Weasley, presenting her with a bouquet of flowers to thank her for welcoming him into their home. He then indulged in a bit of muggle inquisitiveness with Mr Weasley before he was rescued by Ginny, who told him to come and play quidditch in a field behind the house while dinner was cooking.

"I've bagsied you for my team," she told him affably as they walked through the garden and Hermione joined them looking slightly flustered.

"I've only just got away from Teddy," she explained, wiping her hand across her forehead. "The drawback of only seeing him once every few months is that I get a concentrated dose in just a couple of hours." She blew out a breath. "Kids are so tiring!"

Ginny laughed. "You've got all that to come one day!"

Steve glanced sharply at Hermione. The subject of children had yet to be seriously raised between them.

"Oh, not for _ages_ yet," Hermione replied confidently, meeting Steve's gaze and he almost sagged with relief. "Right?"

"Right." His current occupation was far too dangerous for him to feel comfortable about bringing a child into the world. His own father had died during World War One, before Steve was even born and, even though his mother had done an amazing job in raising him, he didn't want a child of his own to grow up without their father.

"Are you playing?" Ginny asked Hermione, turning the conversation back to the forthcoming game.

"George said I had to otherwise the teams would be uneven," she replied. "But I don't mind taking part. You lot had better go easy on us though: I think Steve and I are the only ones here who never played for Gryffindor!"

"It's just a low-key family game," Ginny said calmly.

Hermione scoffed. "Please, you lot are so competitive it's a miracle nobody's broken a bone in one of your family games."

"Um, actually…" Ginny began, sounding a little awkward.

"Save it," Hermione sighed. "I think I'd rather not know."

The rest of the players were already assembled in the field, broomsticks slung over their shoulders already. Except for Percy, all of Ginny's brothers were playing along with Harry and George and Ron's girlfriends, Angelina and Katie.

"We're playing five-a-side," Ginny explained as they got closer. "That means there are only two chasers and one beater per team. But to make things fairer, none of us are allowed to play in our typical positions."

It took a few minutes to finalise the teams and the positions. As promised, Steve was to be on Ginny's team, as was Hermione, because Ginny knew that Steve would be reluctant to play against her in such a volatile sport – at least to begin with.

Always prepared for anything, Hermione had actually packed broomsticks for her and Steve to use and the others looked somewhat shocked when she summoned them from where they'd been leaning against a wall of the Burrow. Hermione had bought them a couple of weeks after their February trip to England and the two of them frequently apparated to remote areas outside DC to fly around. He suspected that Hermione only did this because she knew how much he enjoyed it but she always denied it, claiming that she liked it too.

His lack of magical ability meant that his broom never had quite the same level of responsiveness as a witch or wizard would expect, but he made up for that with his enhanced agility and reflexes. The truthful part of him considered alerting the other players of his skills in those areas but he eventually dismissed it; the explanation might raise questions that neither he nor Hermione wanted to answer yet. Besides, they all had magic to their advantage and he didn't.

It was a frenetic contest and Steve could readily believe that bones had been broken on previous encounters for there wasn't a single player (except possibly Hermione) who didn't desperately want to win.

Steve played as a Chaser, with George as his partner, and the players on the pitch quickly saw just how acrobatic and daring Steve was (not that he was particularly aware of their open mouths and incredulous expressions).

During one move, where he leapt off his broom to intercept a pass between Bill and Charlie (the other team's Chasers) and only just grabbed onto the handle of his broom on the descent to prevent a thirty-foot drop, Katie actually screamed. Steve easily swung himself back onto his broom and threw the quaffle through the left-hand hoop so quickly that Angelina barely had time to blink, let alone block it.

Despite his poorer flying skills, avoiding the bludger was mostly easy for him but, a few minutes in the game, one crashed into his ribs before bouncing away. Steve glanced down at the impact but didn't even feel any particular discomfort.

"You might want to pretend that hurt a little," Harry called to him as he zoomed past, beater's bat in hand. "I know I'm not the strongest beater in the world but a blow like that would normally break someone's ribs."

Steve held a hand to his side for a moment to downplay any suspicions the others may have about his physique before throwing himself back into the game.

Five minutes later, the match was completed when Hermione caught the snitch (which she told Steve was mostly down to Katie being distracted by his acrobatic performance as a chaser). Her face was flushed, unused to sporting success, as her team celebrated the 230 – 40 point thrashing they'd handed out.

Steve's back was heartily slapped by both teammates and those on the opposition. Exclamations of disbelief that he'd never played Quidditch before and enthusiastic compliments about his agility surrounded him as they journeyed back for lunch. He did feel somewhat of a fraud but Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist supportively, as though she knew what he was thinking, and he held his tongue. He'd tell them the truth one day.

* * *

"Merlin, I don't think I'm ever going to want to eat again!" Hermione groaned once she'd apparated them back to their hotel room. "I love Molly and her cooking is delicious but she's got to stop insisting that I have second helpings of every course."

Steve looked just as uncomfortable as she did. "I had to have _four_ helpings," he reminded her.

Hermione sighed and held a hand against her stomach. "Well, at least we know she likes you. She wouldn't give more of her food to just anyone."

A series of beeps emanated from their phones, signalling multiple notifications. "I told you the reception at the Burrow is awful," Hermione muttered, flicking through her messages.

"Does this still count as a vacation when we get things through from work?" Steve asked, perusing his own contacts. "It doesn't exactly feel like one."

Hermione frowned down at one of her messages. "I'm just going to take this one," she said, not really listening to him and walked into the bathroom so that he wouldn't have to hear the conversation.

Agent Hill answered straightaway. "Sorry for interrupting your leave, Hermione."

"That's OK," she replied. "I know you wouldn't have flagged this up if you didn't think it was important."

"Someone's been asking after you," Hill said, getting straight to the point. "That in itself is not entirely unusual but the individual making the request was a young woman by the name of Darcy Lewis."

"I know that name," Hermione murmured. "Why do I know that name?"

"She's an intern of Jane Foster and a former colleague of Erik Selvig," Hill explained and Hermione nodded with recognition.

"She witnessed Thor's first coming in New Mexico," she added, recalling the information.

"Yes," Hill confirmed. "Here's the recording of the message she sent."

Hermione's brain puzzled over reasons why Darcy Lewis would try to get in contact with her and then concentrated as the recording began.

"Um…hi! I hope this is the right number. My name's Darcy Lewis. I, er, worked alongside you guys a couple of years ago – well, actually, that's not exactly true because you were a bunch of jerks and stole everything, including my iPod, which I never got back by the way. Look, there's some freaky stuff going on in London right now which doesn't really make scientific sense. I thought that maybe it was something to do with the Sorceress, you know, assuming her name is literal and she's not just some crazy Wiccan lady in a cape. I'm just a little out of my depth here and I would ask Jane but she's kinda… gone… So, um, call me back. Please."

Hermione pondered Darcy's last few words. "What does she mean Jane's gone?"

"Ms Lewis has reported to the British police that Jane Foster has been missing since early this afternoon," Hill explained. "So is this anything to do with you? You're in England, right?"

Hermione's mind worked quickly. Nothing she'd done over the past couple of days should be causing anything unexpected in London at the moment, but that didn't mean that _another_ magical person wasn't responsible. She had to check out whatever Darcy and Jane had found before she allowed S.H.I.E.L.D. to go in and poke around. "Um, there's a possibility it could be me," Hermione lied to give herself some cover. "Give me the coordinates and I'll make certain either way."

Agent Hill did as requested and Hermione promised to be in touch.

"Oh, and on a personal note, congrats to you and Steve," she added. "It's great to have some good news for once."

"Thanks, Maria," Hermione said warmly as she re-entered the bedroom. "I'll speak to you soon."

Steve looked up from where he was sat on the bed. "Are you heading out?"

She nodded her head. "I'm sorry. Hopefully, it won't be long."

She kissed him briefly on the lips, said her farewell and apparated outside the abandoned factory. She was so used to her and Steve working separately on their S.H.I.E.L.D assignments that it never occurred to her to ask him if he wanted to join her.

She flinched as she arrived due to the tumultuous downpour and she instinctively cast an impervious spell on herself to keep the rain away. A number of police cars were in attendance but she spotted the huddled figure of a young woman and assumed that this was the person she had come to meet.

"Darcy Lewis?" Hermione called as she walked over to the brunette. The woman looked at her suspiciously.

"Yeah… Who are you?"

"You called me," Hermione offered by way of explanation. Darcy's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment and then she seemed to notice that Hermione was bone dry and she gaped in realisation.

"Wait… You're… _You're…_?!"

"Yes, I am. You said that Jane Foster was missing," Hermione pressed.

"Er, yeah, _was_ ," Darcy replied then pointed over Hermione's shoulder. "It's been a really weird few minutes."

Hermione turned to where Darcy was indicating and, to her surprise, saw both Jane and Thor in the middle of an intense discussion.

Darcy glanced apprehensively at the officers that were a few feet away and she pulled at Hermione's elbow to distance themselves even further. "How about we go over and say hi. You've met Thor, right?"

"Well, yes," she replied, still a little shocked at seeing the Asgardian back on Earth.

"Hey, look who just turned up!" Darcy called, interrupting the tender moment Jane and Thor seemed to be having.

Thor's expression was surprised and then he grinned widely.

"Hermione!" he cried, embracing her warmly but Jane just looked confused.

"We've met before," Jane said slowly, obviously recognising her from their discussion a couple of years ago about the Nine Realms.

"You met the Sorceress and you didn't tell me!" Darcy complained.

Jane looked quickly between Hermione and Darcy, eyebrows raised. " _You're_ the Sorceress?!"

Hermione nodded modestly. "It's good to meet you again, Dr Foster. I understand that there have been some strange happenings nearby."

Jane shot Darcy an annoyed look. "You _did_ call S.H.I.E.L.D!"

Darcy shrugged, unfazed by Jane's ire. "Look, you can get pissy at me for being worried about you, or maybe you could go and talk to the cops because I'm _pretty_ sure we are getting arrested."

Jane sighed. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere," she added to Thor before trotting off to the officers.

Darcy looked between Hermione and Thor with a frown.

"Hey, is one of you doing this?" she asked, indicating the downpour with a jerk of her head.

Hermione held her hands up to protest her innocence. "It's nothing to do with me."

Thor looked up at the clouds and the rain ceased at once.

"Huh, cool," Darcy commented. "So, how's space?" she asked Thor.

"Space is fine," he replied amiably.

"Why are you getting arrested?" Hermione asked, glancing at where Jane was talking to an officer. "I thought you were the one that called the police in the first place."

"Oh, they said something about trespassing," Darcy mumbled.

Hermione nodded and took a step forwards, intending to use her S.H.I.E.L.D authority to drop the charge but as the officer grabbed Jane, a surge of red energy erupted from the astrophysicist, blasting people off their feet and smashing the glass of the cars. Hermione had no time to cast a shield so she leapt behind a large shipping container.

When the power had subsided, Hermione ran towards Jane in concern with her wand held at her side as a precaution. Jane was sprawled on the ground, weakened by whatever had surged from her.

"Jane!" Thor called, also rushing to her.

Hermione hesitated in putting out a hand to help her rise, wary that the dark red substance be unleashed again, but Thor had no such qualms and started raising her to her feet.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked instead as Jane gazed around in confusion.

"What happened?" she murmured.

"Have you ever seen its' like before?" Thor questioned Hermione but she shook her head minutely.

"Place your hands on your head," an authoritative voice called and they saw another police officer cautiously edging towards them. "Step back!"

"The woman is unwell," Thor explained calmly, trying to pacify the situation.

"She's dangerous," the officer insisted.

"So am I," Thor replied grimly.

The officer blanched and started talking into his walkie-talkie, "Requesting armed response officers to the scene."

Thor turned to Hermione. "Will you come with us? I anticipate your knowledge and expertise will be of great assistance."

"Of course," she agreed, wondering what destination he had in mind.

Thor tightened his embrace around Jane. "Hold on to me," he instructed.

"What are you doing?" Jane queried but nonetheless did what he said.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask where she should apparate to but strange, fiery markings appeared on the ground by her feet. A blustery rush of intense light descended on her and she instinctively grabbed a handful of Thor's red cloak. Abruptly, all three of them were soaring upwards through the extensive shaft of light. The sensation was far more pleasant than apparating and Hermione knew she was travelling faster (and, she strongly suspected, further) than she'd ever done before.

Dazzling stars and colourful nebulas appeared in her vision for brief moments before she was already past them. It was one of the most extraordinary and beautiful experiences of her life.

Their journey drew to a close and Hermione was forced to run forwards a few steps due to the change of speed. They emerged into a huge, golden, dome-shaped room which was covered with intricate circular markings and patterns. On a slightly raised dais at the centre of the room, stood a large, dark-skinned man, dressed in impressive golden armour. In his hands he gripped a great sword which rested in a golden block, which he quickly raised and lowered, bringing the rotating, clanking transportation device to a halt.

"We have to do that again," Jane said excitedly, echoing Hermione's amazement.

The golden warrior relinquished his hold on the sword and turned towards the women.

"Welcome to Asgard," he said, his deep, smooth voice reverberating pleasantly around them. Hermione pursed her lips, her theory confirmed about her whereabouts.

"Jane, Hermione, may I present Heimdall, gatekeeper of this realm," Thor introduced, gesturing to the somewhat intimidating Asgardian. Two years ago, once Hermione had learned that the old Norse tales were more than just stories, she had done an extensive amount of research on the people and places written about in the fantastical sagas. However, seeing them in reality right in front of her eyes was more daunting than she'd ever anticipated. Heimdall exuded an ancient and powerful aura, most noticeably in his glowing eyes, that left her feeling rather small and insignificant. "Heimdall, this is Jane Foster and Hermione Granger."

Heimdall inclined his head to each woman in turn with an amiable expression on his face but Hermione couldn't help but sense that it lost some of its friendliness when he looked at her.

"I have seen and heard much about you, Jane Foster," Heimdall said, causing Jane to glance anxiously at Thor.

"Oh," she said uncertainly.

"Heimdall watches over all the people of the Nine Realms," Thor explained, reassuring her. "Over ten trillion souls, did you not say?" he added to the gatekeeper.

"I did," Heimdell agreed and his eyes landed on Hermione again. "Though there are some even _I_ cannot sense."

Caught in his fiery gaze, Hermione, for once, was quite silent.

"I told you of the skill of Hermione's sorcery," Thor said lightly. "It must be this that blocks you."

"It's not done intentionally," she added, her voice far more squeaky than she would like.

He appeared to accept the truthfulness of her words for his aura became friendlier. "I may not have seen it with my own eyes, but Thor has informed me of your courage and resourcefulness in pursuit of the Tesseract."

"She is a much valued ally," Thor said warmly, unaware of the slightly forced expression on Jane's face.

"That's very kind of you to say," Hermione commented, finding her voice. "But, next time we travel across space, could you perhaps give me a little more warning? Steve's not going to have the faintest idea that I'm in another realm."

"Steve…Rogers?" Thor asked, a little surprised, and Hermione nodded. "He will be concerned for your welfare?"

"I would hope so," she responded dryly. "We're engaged to be married."

His face conveyed surprise for a moment and then he grinned widely. "That is most excellent news!" He cast a sidelong glance at Jane, who was looking at Hermione with renewed curiosity. "And in a few days I hope to celebrate with you both fully."

Hermione nodded, aware how important it was for Jane to be assessed. "Thank you." She turned to look along the stunning rainbow bridge that led to the distant, gleaming city and felt a burst of adrenaline that wasn't purely down to her concern for Jane; Asgard awaited.

* * *

A/N Thor 2 is up and running!

Unsurprisingly, next chapter sees the return of someone many of you have been waiting a long time for!

See you then!

Love,

Lil Drop of Magic


	9. Chapter 9

Hi guys! Thanks for all of your support!

We've obviously got a lot of borrowing from Thor 2 in this chapter, which I absolutely don't own.

* * *

Lying on the chaise in his cell, Loki leisurely threw and caught a gold cup repeatedly and then paused, seemingly sensing her presence. "Well, this is an unexpected pleasure," he murmured, sitting up to look more closely at his visitor through the gold-rimmed protective barrier. "And in Asgardian dress too. The style is quite becoming on you."

Hermione glanced down at the clothes she'd been given; the floor length, turquoise gown fit with silver breastplate was truly beautiful but had barely registered in her thoughts given her focus on helping Jane. Coldly, she raised her gaze back to his, determined to remain unruffled by whatever might come out of his mouth. She turned to the Einherjar guard who had escorted her to Loki's cell. "You don't have to wait with me; I'll be fine." The guard sent Loki a distrustful look, inclined his head to Hermione, then strolled away.

"You know, I never really took you for the gloating sort," Loki said silkily, rising from his chaise and walking serenely towards her.

"I'm not," she replied shortly. "I'm in Asgard on a flying visit and my trip down here is merely to satisfy my curiosity to see what has become of you."

She wouldn't tell Loki the real reason for her trip to this realm because she knew he would take pleasure in knowing that the woman Thor loved was in mortal peril. Hermione tried not to let for concern for Jane's wellbeing show. They had discovered that an incomprehensibly ancient substance, the Aether, had invaded Jane's body and was, even now, consuming her life force. If they didn't have a way to remove the powerful fluid from Jane's body, she would die. Despite Odin's rather obvious indignation at her and Jane's presence in Asgard, Hermione had done what she did best – read a lot of books. For once, her knowledge of ancient runes would actually come in handy! She'd nearly melted at the sight of Asgard's great library (which an eager and desperate Thor had given her permission to enter); the rows upon rows of shelves spread on further than her eye could see and each book that she looked at was achingly beautiful. A small group of historians and scholars were assigned to assist her but their combined efforts had revealed no solutions so far.

Loki made an open gesture with his arms and turned slowly on the spot. "I'm no more than a zoo attraction then," he said with soft scorn. "And what do you make of what you see?"

Hermione allowed her eyes to rake over his form, her gaze lingering on his relentless stare.

"That nothing has changed in the twelve months since I've seen you," she replied. "You feel absolutely no remorse for your actions."

Loki smiled, bemused by her comment. "Are you actually surprised?"

"No," Hermione sighed. "Just disappointed."

Loki chuckled. "Oh, my dear, that inner belief you have that everyone is good deep at heart will lead you to no end of trouble. It would almost be endearing if it wasn't so foolish. It's such a pity I didn't manage to crush that sanctimonious spirit," he said lightly. "But I live in hope that someone else will succeed before long."

Hermione felt a flash of annoyance at his words and she crossed her arms defensively. Unfortunately, the movement drew his eyes to her left hand.

"Ah, but what's this?" he asked with relish. "Things have changed for _you_ since we last met. Who's the unfortunate fellow?"

"You don't know him," she lied breezily.

Loki laughed again, flashing his teeth. "You forget, Hermione, that our minds have a connection. I know you're lying about your fiance just as much as I'm aware you're not merely here for a 'flying visit'."

"Your mother checked my mind for me," Hermione informed him, not missing the way his body tensed at the mention of Frigga. Much to Hermione's astonishment, the queen of Asgard had sought her out at the library to thank her for assisting Thor and to apologise for Loki's previous actions on Earth. After overcoming her initial nerves at meeting Frigga, Hermione meekly asked the queen if she would allay her niggling concerns that Loki's presence might remain. "She reassured me that absolutely no link remained between us."

"Then how do I know that it was the soldier who put the ring on your finger?" Loki shot back, recovering quickly.

Hermione looked at him coldly. "A lucky guess."

"Not that lucky, actually," he replied patronisingly. "You're just disappointingly predictable. Now, unless you've got anything interesting to say, I've got an eternity of imprisonment to be getting back to." He raised a challenging eyebrow at her but, when she remained quiet, he turned on his heel and sauntered back to his chaise.

Her Einherjar guard reappeared at her side, ready to escort her back. With a last disapproving look in Loki's direction, Hermione allowed herself to be led away from his cell. Her curiosity was satiated but she felt no better for it.

It was as they had just emerged into the courtyard near the dungeons that the shouts and cries of alarm reached their ears.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked in concern as a dozen Einherjar reached for their swords and ran down the stairs she had just climbed.

"Wait here, my lady," her own guard instructed before following his comrades to the cells. Hermione heeded his words for all of two seconds before descending too.

The yells were much louder here and there was the unmistakeable sound of blades clashing further below – it seemed the prisoners were attempting to launch an escape. Her progress was blocked by a build-up of Einherjar guards who could go no further themselves, so she apparated directly down to the cells, wand in hand.

Prisoners and guards battled around her in a confusing melee. A large prisoner scythed a huge axe towards her chest and she leant backwards whilst simultaneously sending a stunner at his grizzled features. The man dropped like a stone and she turned, summoning the weapon of another prisoner who was about to stab a fallen guard.

As she incapacitated her fifth opponent in a handful of seconds, the bright flashes of her spells began to attract a fair amount of attention. A trio of escapees rushed at her from different sides, intending to use their impressive physicality to neutralise her, but at the last moment she apparated a few feet away and the resulting collision was enough to knock all three down at once.

There was a bark of astonished laughter behind her and the blond-haired man it came from looked at her appreciatively as he battled a prisoner himself. "Where have you been all my life, my lady?" He wasn't dressed in the uniform of an Einherjar and nor was the giant of a man close by who looked to be enjoying himself immensely as he clouted and walloped his enemies easily.

"On Earth," she replied simply, erecting a shield to block a spear that had been launched in her direction. "Er, Midgard," she corrected.

"Ah," the large man cried, shoving the handle of his axe into a prisoner's stomach. "The mortal sorceress Thor told us off! It is an honour to fight alongside such a distinguished warrior, my lady."

"And I'm sure he told you of us; his greatest friends," the blond man said, looking at Hermione expectantly as she stunned another hopeful-escapee.

"Um, we didn't exactly have time to talk," she said apologetically.

The big man let out a booming laugh and, in between clanging two prisoners' heads together, introduced himself as Volstagg.

"I am Fandral," the blond man said. "And I'm completely at your service, my lady." He bowed rather ostentatiously and Hermione banished a prisoner, who was about to plunge a sword into Fandral's back, to the other side of the dungeons. Fandral turned in surprise at the startled prisoner's cry and they watched as he slammed into a number of other prisoners before finally hitting the far wall with a hearty smack and fell to the ground.

"I'm Hermione," she said, a little embarrassed by the amount of stares she was receiving from the other members of the skirmish, both foe and ally alike.

Thor's sudden landing in the dungeons diverted their attention. "Return to your cells and no further harm shall come to you," he said imperiously amongst the hushed crowd. "You have my word." A rather brave (or idiotic) prisoner ran forward and punched Thor across the head. Thor grabbed the offender and growled, "Very well, you do _not_ have my word," before thumping him to the ground.

Spirits diminished by Thor's presence and Hermione's magic, the prisoners' resumed skirmish was short lived.

"How did you escape from your cell?" Thor asked the nearest conscious prisoner, holding him aloft so that his feet dangled two feet above the floor. The prisoner refused to answer at first so Thor changed his grip so that it was around the man's throat. He clawed at Thor's hand desperately. "Sorry, what was that?" Thor asked, freeing the man's airwaves again.

"A m-monster," the prisoner croaked. "He shattered the barrier with just his fists – they were glowing!"

Thor let the man fall to the ground. "Who has seen this monster? Which way did he go?"

Hermione spotted Loki sitting on the floor of his cell, nonchalantly reading his book. She walked quickly over to him, skirting the various groaning and unconscious bodies that littered the floor.

" _Well?_ " she asked expectantly. Loki flicked over another page, completely ignoring her. "Whatever this thing is, it's dangerous," she continued with more than a hint of irritation in her voice. "If you tell us where it went, we can stop it before it does any more damage."

Loki slowly raised his eyes to meet her gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about; I've just been sat here reading my book. Now, as I said earlier, come back when you've got something interesting to tell me."

Hermione turned away from him with contempt.

Little trickles of dust fell from the ceiling as it, the ground and walls all trembled and a deep, distant series of booms reached their ears.

This wasn't the work of one, sole monster; something bigger was at play.

Jane. The Aether.

She ran and leapt over to Thor. "Where is she?"

"With my mother. Come," Thor answered hurriedly, holding her tight against his chest as he swung Mjølnir in a small circle and then held it aloft.

Hermione managed to supress a rather undignified squawk and gripped his arm as they flew rapidly out of the dungeons. She didn't mind flying; she just preferred to be the one in control, so she was quite relieved when they landed in the throne room of the Asgardian Palace.

During her very brief stay in Asgard, Hermione had only really glimpsed the vast, column-lined hall and had been mesmerised by its beauty.

Now it was a scene of devastation.

A large aircraft had smashed its way into the room, destroying everything in its path. Bodies were strewn everywhere – and not just Asgardian ones. Creatures with unsettling white masks and armour gazed sightlessly up at her from their deadly resting places. She recognised them from the beautiful book Odin had shown them about the Aether; Dark Elves. Obviously, they were not quite as extinct as Odin had led them to believe.

There were no other living souls in throne room so she looked to Thor for their next move, for Jane was in as much danger as they'd feared.

"To my mother's chambers," he ordered, already striding away. "Hurry!"

His size and familiarity with the palace made this much easier for him than it was for her and she quietly thanked the frequent long-distance, early morning runs she did with Steve for enabling her to keep the Asgardian in sight.

Were those voices she could hear in the distance?

Ahead of her, Thor let out an anguished cry of, " _No!_ " and a burst of lightning shot from Mjølnir.

Hermione's heart leapt into her mouth. What had happened?

She followed Thor into Frigga's chambers and saw the queen of Asgard collapsed on the floor. Thor was chasing after something or someone out on the balcony but Hermione skidded onto her knees next to Frigga and ran a diagnostic spell. Her magical healing had improved since she'd been combining her spells with what she'd learned about muggle practices with Simmons. The pastel green light of her spell surrounded Frigga's body, as it should, and Hermione clenched her wand, ready to act to whatever the diagnosis brought back. The green darkened to black and Hermione half-choked on her own ragged breath.

Frigga was dead.

* * *

Loki looked a little surprised to see her. If she were being honest, she was rather shocked with herself too.

"I trust you have something of interest prepared this time," he said, putting his book to one side.

Hermione looked at his expectant face and wished she hadn't intercepted the guard who had been sent to deliver this message. At the time, even in spite of all Loki had done, she'd thought it unfeeling of Odin to inform his son of Frigga's death that way. Despite his earlier derisive comments about her belief in people, Hermione knew that one person, possibly the _only_ person, Loki still cared deeply for was his mother. And, somehow, that qualified this remorseless, mass-murdering trickster of her compassion.

"The city is back under Asgardian control," Hermione said softly and she cleared her throat to make her voice stronger. Something about her sombre demeanour had actually checked him, for he made no sarcastic comment. "There were," she paused and licked her lips to combat her dry mouth, " _many_ fatalities… including your mother." She knew that he had heard her but his face showed no change of expression. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, stiffly, in a way that a servant would take as a dismissal but she hesitated.

"You should know," she said haltingly, "that your, er, lack of cooperation had no bearing on her death."

Loki tilted his head slightly to the side, taking in what she had said. "You mean that beast…?" He was unable to finish the question but Hermione knew what he had intended to ask: whether the monster that had escaped from the cell had killed Frigga.

She nodded mutely.

"I'm sorry," she repeated quietly and then turned away to give him his privacy. As she walked along the dimly lit corridor, she was sure she heard the sound of a muffled explosion coming from his cell.

* * *

Apparating into the room that Jane was being held prisoner, Hermione wondered whether she could still be committing treason if she was not an Asgardian.

She and Thor had plotted to take Jane off-world, defying Odin's express orders. The king wished Jane to remain on Asgard so that Malekith would come back to extract the Aether and, thus, a large battle would take place where Odin trusted that his forces would defeat the Dark Elves. Concerned for the suffering the people of Asgard would face, Thor proposed that they lure Malekith to Svartalfheim, the Dark World, so that they could catch Malekith unawares by destroying the Aether when he brought it out of Jane. Should they fail, Malekith would have unparalleled power and would be near impossible to defeat. However, if they succeeded, not a single Asgardian life should be lost.

"The risks are too great," Heimdall had said when she and Thor enlisted his help in their plot.

"Everything we do from here on is a risk," Thor argued, "There is no other way."

The guardian of Asgard had seen the truth of that and had therefore agreed to assist them. He could not overrule Odin's orders to keep the Bifrost closed and nor did they wish for him to disobey the king so directly.

Another way to travel off-world was by using the Tesseract. However, the Cube was locked away so securely in Odin's vault that even Hermione would have extreme difficulty in procuring it.

There was only one other option and Hermione didn't like it one bit…

Jane gasped when Hermione appeared in the dimly lit room with a faint pop. She quickly stunned the guard who was in the room watching over Jane before he had time to raise the alarm and used her magic to prevent him falling noisily to the ground.

"Hi," Hermione whispered in greeting to Jane who looked slightly shocked.

"Er, hi."

"It's time to go," she said, holding out a hand to Jane instead of grabbing her so as not to upset the Aether. Jane rose from the seat to take her hand. "This will feel a little strange," Hermione warned and Jane nodded.

They reappeared on the other side of the palace, not too far from the dungeons, where Thor was waiting in the shadows with Loki and… _Steve?!_

He was dressed in full Captain America apparel but his face showed evident relief when he saw her. "Thank God, I've been so worried about you!"

Hermione was still puzzling over how he possibly could have made the journey from Earth but then she saw the scowl on Thor's face as he looked at Steve and the warning hand he put on his shoulder.

She glared at Loki, who was standing watching the interaction with amusement on his face. "Nice try," she said scornfully. Loki chuckled and then his figure disappeared. The _true_ Loki stood in place of Steve, smirk twisting his face. " _Jerk_ ," she muttered, punching him on the arm.

"It was worth it to see the look on your face," he replied, eyes flashing, all trace of his grief for Frigga firmly locked away.

"You're…" Jane said with understanding as she looked at Thor's brother.

"I'm Loki," he introduced, "You may have heard of me."

Jane walked forwards and slapped him across the face. "That was for New York," she hissed.

Loki grinned. "I like her," he said amiably to Thor.

"We've got to go," Hermione urged. "Heimdall will be alerting Odin to treason very soon and it would be better if we were as far away from here as possible."

"I've been looking forward to this bit," Loki claimed breezily, curling his shackled fingers around Hermione's hand. She tried not to scowl at the broad grin he was sending her way and held her other hand out to Jane. Thor moved forward to complete the chain and Hermione concentrated. Side-along apparation with three guests wasn't too difficult but, when two of those were Asgardians and the other housed a volatile ancient power, she paid more attention than she would normally.

Earlier that day, she and Thor had taken a small flying vessel out on the pretence of inspecting the damage the Dark Elf attack had caused and to give Hermione a wider tour of Asgard. They had left the skiff in a remote spot and it was here that Hermione transported the four of them to.

The bright sunshine was quite a contrast to the dark shadows of the palace and Hermione blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust. The surrounding landscape was utterly stunning, with a wide expanse of water that stretched as far as the eye could see, surrounded by dramatic mountains. Fortunately, there seemed to be no one else around.

"Are we close to your secret pathway?" Thor asked Loki as he started the ship's engine.

Loki gazed around as the vessel suddenly sped forwards and he moved to the controls with an excited grin on his face. "Oh, yes," he said lowly.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously as he altered their course. Neither she nor Thor trusted Loki in the slightest but they were left with little choice if their plan was to succeed.

Jane suddenly collapsed.

"Oh dear, is she dead?" Loki asked unconcernedly, as Thor and Hermione crouched next to her.

"I'm fine," Jane mumbled. Thor lifted her in his arms and laid her down in the front of the ship so she could rest more comfortably. The Aether's presence was clearly taking its toll on Jane. Hopefully, Malekith would come quickly once they made it to Svartalfheim. _If_ they made it Svartalfheim, for Loki looked to be flying them right into the side of a mountain.

"Loki…" Thor called uneasily, also noticing their flight path.

"If it were easy, everyone would do it," Loki pointed out calmly.

There was no gap, no opening for which to aim for. Either Loki had truly gone insane or there was more to the mountain wall that met the eye.

"Are you mad?" Thor cried, echoing her sentiments.

"Possibly!" he replied with relish.

If she didn't know that Loki was a champion of self-preservation, Hermione probably wouldn't have been able to make herself stay on the vessel. She crouched down and Thor protectively did so over Jane. At least it would be quick, she thought, as the distance between them and the mountain shrank rapidly… And then they were through! The ship clattered and scraped along the sides of the hidden cavern before they disappeared into a blinding white light. For a split second, Hermione thought that he'd killed them all but, a moment later, they emerged into a grey desolate landscape.

"Ta-da!" Loki crowed as the ship bumped along the ground.

Hermione let out a big sigh of relief.

The time spent flying around Svartalfheim, waiting for Malekith to arrive, was very tiresome. They went over the plan so many times that Loki threatened to strangle himself with his own handcuffs if they had to discuss the details again. Hermione spent most of her time watching over Jane (though there was little that she could do for her) but this was also a good excuse to keep away from the brothers as they sniped and argued with each other. Even when Thor raised his fist ready to punch Loki, Hermione couldn't find the desire within herself to stop him. Fortunately for Loki, Thor restrained himself.

Eventually, Malekith's ship appeared in the sky, signalling Hermione's time to disillusion herself and leave. She nodded to Thor and Loki as the disguising spell trickled down her body and then disapparated.

She watched from a distance as the two parties landed their ships and walked towards each other. The grainy surface of the world prevented her from walking about in this form for her footprints would show up clearly so apparated closer in stages, trusting that the howling wind would mask the noise.

Thor, Loki and Jane appeared on the crest of the hill and she waited, heart in her mouth, for their plan to proceed.

She watched Thor remove the handcuffs from Loki, before the trickster twisted, impacting something into Thor's body and then throwing him down the hill.

Jane's desperate cry of, "Thor!" reached Hermione's ears as Loki jumped down after his fallen brother, Jane stumbling after them.

"You really think I cared about Frigga," Loki said contemptuously as Thor rolled to a stop. "About _any_ of you?" He kicked Thor in the head, knocking him to the ground. "All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet!" he snarled. Thor held out his hand to summon Mjølnir but, with a flash of a blade, Loki cut off his hand.

Hermione had to admit that it all looked very realistic, but then that was the point; to lull Malekith into a false sense of security.

Jane fell to her knees next to Thor as he groaned on the floor. Loki grabbed her around the waist and hauled her towards the party of Dark Elves.

"Malekith!" he cried. "I am Loki of Jotunheim and I bring you a gift." He flung Jane at his feet. "I ask only one thing in return: a good seat from which to watch Asgard burn."

Malekith surveyed the drama in front of him emotionlessly. The huge creature next to him, no doubt the one who had killed Frigga, spoke to Malekith in a language she didn't understand. Malekith appeared to accept Loki's request and walked towards Thor, who was still writhing in agony, cradling his dismembered arm.

"Look at me," Malekith ordered, kicking Thor onto his back so that he would have no choice. Still staring at Thor, Malekith held out his arm and Jane's body slowly rose a few feet into the air, her robe and hair whipping around her with the force of the wind. Darkness seeped from her in small trickles, combining into a seething dark mass before them.

When Malekith had finished extracting the Aether, he let Jane fall unceremoniously to the ground.

" _Now!_ " Thor cried.

Loki cancelled his trick on Thor's hand, revealing it to be in place after all. Thor summoned Mjølnir and aimed it at the Aether as Hermione did the same with her wand. She cast a sustained _confringo_ at the swirling Aether and she sincerely hoped that the blasting spell, combined with the lightning from Mjølnir, would destroy the substance forever. The power of their assault made the Aether distort and rise high above them. Hermione's wand shook violently in her hand but she held on determinedly. Just when she thought that the wand would burst, the Aether shattered, the force of the explosion pushing her backwards. She stumbled to the ground, drained by the effort of enforcing such a powerful spell, and felt a number of sharp stings across her body.

As the dust settled around them, Hermione looked down and noticed that she was visible once more. Along her arms were a series of small cuts and scratches and she realised she suddenly no longer felt tired.

Before her eyes, small shards of red rose upwards, defying the laws of gravity. They were all around, in fact, hundreds of tiny crimson pieces rising in the air and regathering themselves.

They had failed to destroy the Aether.

A sharp pain seared in her grazes and she looked down to see the flesh was completely healed. Bewildered, she raised her head and saw their worst fears realised as Malekith absorbed the Aether into his body. When he looked down at them all, his eyes were completely black.

They had prepared for this eventuality: their new priority was to stop Malekith from leaving. Thor and Loki focused on the Dark Elves themselves while Hermione apparated to the open door of their ship. Inside the alien craft, she had no idea where to go so she just ran as fast as she could, casting blasting, bombarding and severing hexes as she went. Flames licked at her heels as she climbed higher but this only encouraged her. Shouts of alarm echoed around the vessel but she didn't stay still long enough to find out where they came from.

The ship shuddered and she paused, wondering whether the cause was because of her spells. Surely she hadn't done enough damage yet? Then she realised that they were taking off. She considered disapparating to reunite with Thor and come up with a new way to take on Malekith, but she dismissed the idea. She was here, on his ship, with every opportunity to stop him. If she let him get away, it was more than likely that he would use the Aether to bring darkness to the universe again. Should she died as a result of tearing apart this ship, then it would be worth it to ensure that Steve, Harry, Ron, Ginny, her parents and trillions of others in the Nine Realms and beyond would continue to live in the light.

Hermione ran forwards to find another part of the vessel to destroy but around the corner she stumbled straight into Malekith.

He grabbed her throat and slammed her into the wall, his half-blackened face snarling at her menacingly. "Going somewhere, child?"

 _Save yourself!_ Her mind screamed at her, but the brutal grip he had on her throat was all encompassing.

The icy expression on his face softened slightly into one of curiosity, though his grip didn't slacken. "It reaches for you," he murmured.

Hot sparks erupted from her wand and he removed his hold around her throat long enough to deliver a substantial blow to her head and she fell unconscious to the floor.

* * *

A/N I'm not going to lie, I enjoyed writing the Loki scenes :) My only sadness is that I had to cut out his sarcastic comments to Thor about his flying when they escape from the Palace but it made a lot more sense to have Hermione sneak them away more secretly, not to mention that it meant Thor could keep his friends from getting in trouble by keeping them out of the plot.

Until next time!

Lil Drop of Magic


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Hi guys! Many thanks for your support as always!

* * *

 _Her mind was fitful._

 _Red and black shadows chased her every move. But where she was running_ from _or running_ to _, she had no idea._

 _A three-way fork appeared in the road ahead of her. She hesitated before choosing the left fork. The red and black shadows circled around her, clawing her back to the fork. She tried the centre path and then the right, but each time she was dragged back to make the choice again and now there were no other options left._

 _But there was…_

 _Hermione turned around to face the red-tinged darkness head on and let it surround her as she accepted her fate..._

When she opened her eyes, for a moment, she thought she was still dreaming.

The Aether swirled in the air above her, small streams of it coming down to probe at different parts of her body. She gasped and used her hands and feet to scuttle backwards until she met something solid. With a start, she realised that it was Malekith she was leaning against as he controlled the Aether above her. She let out a startled yell and scurried away from him.

Malekith drew the Aether back within himself and again gazed at her questioningly.

"Within you there lays power to do remarkable things, child," he said. "The Aether can feel it. From where does it come?"

Hermione glared back balefully.

"Answer me," he ordered. "I will not hold back from hurting you."

At her continued silence, a burst of the Aether hurled her spinning backwards into the far wall and she landed awkwardly on her wrist, eliciting a sharp cry of pain.

Malekith looked surprise that she should be injured so easily. "You are not of Asgard," he said. "How can one as weak as you hold such power?"

Hermione righted herself and leant against the wall with a huff. "If you're going to turn the universe to darkness, what does it matter?" she argued bitingly.

"You are right, of course, for it is no consequence," Malekith replied calmly, "but I desire the answers to my questions and there is time enough before darkness descends. Your attack on my ship caused no more than superficial damage."

Hermione's spirits lowered at his words but then he pulled her wand from his cloak and her pulse quickened, even though she knew there was little chance of her getting it back.

"There is some power in this," he continued, "though it is different and not as strong."

If she could get her wand back and find the right room on the ship, she knew that the damage she could cause would be a lot more than superficial. Without it, there wasn't much more she could do but apparate or change into a falcon, neither of which would help her too much on an alien ship in space.

Malekith snapped her wand between his fingers and Hermione let out a strangled cry of disbelief. He gazed back at her, unmoved by her distress. "As you said; what does it matter?" He peered at the splinters in his hand with mild interest while Hermione tried to calm herself down. _Remember your training,_ she reminded herself. _You might be without your weapon but you're still a witch and an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D and you're damn good at both._

With a crushing relief, she remembered that she'd transferred her magical pocket to the Asgardian robes she was wearing; apparating and animagus were just the tip of the iceberg of what she was capable of now. Within that pocket were all the potions, trinkets and SHIELD equipment that she always took on an assignment and, somewhere, there was also a spare wand. The only problem would be finding it amongst the hundreds of other items…

Malekith threw the destroyed wand to the floor and Hermione set her jaw, deciding that she'd had enough of cowering. He said there was power within her, well, it was time to show him some.

Ignoring her throbbing wrist, she used her flying-apparation to stream away from him (grabbing her wand shards as she went) and flew throughout the ship, looking for a place to gather herself before employing a full-on assault.

The Aether pursued her but there was only so far that Malekith could disperse it without putting his ship in danger and she soon lost it as she sped further up the vessel. She passed Dark Elves on more than one occasion but she was travelling so fast they barely had time to register the white smoke, let alone try and stop her.

At length, Hermione found somewhere to pause and started rooting around in her pocket. She pulled out a number of objects including her phone, a notebook and some potion phials – one of which was for pain relief. She swallowed this to soothe her wrist but disregarded the other items as unimportant.

Hermione delved twice more into her pocket and was luckier this time, finding a few incendiary items of both muggle and magical invention, as well as a device FitzSimmons had given her that would come in handy should she be unable to find that elusive spare wand.

Footsteps and shouts sounded far closer than she liked and she stuffed her items into different pockets to be able to grab them more easily when in flight.

She took off, shooting past the Dark Elves; the blasts of their weapons about two seconds too late to hit her. One of them threw a small spherical device after her and she veered dramatically. She'd heard talk in Asgard that the round weapons created a small vortex that pulled anything in its range into an abyss.

More Dark Elves appeared in front of her but she streamed by, almost without concern, and reasoned she must be close to the control centre of the ship. A minute later, she came across it; a wide, circular room with various electrical stations and holographic displays. Focused on their tasks of running the ship, these Dark Elves were not expecting her smoky presence. She primed the explosive devices and threw them in various places throughout the room, leaving just before the first detonations took place. She could hear the booms as she flew along the corridor and she paused in a dark corridor before she returned for another assault. Then another noise, a shockingly familiar one, caught her attention: the notifications were coming up on her phone! How was that possible when she was in space?!

Hermione was tempted to retrieve the device from her pocket but recognised that it wasn't exactly a priority at that moment. Armed with bottles of Explosion Potion in each hand, she flew to the control room to see what damage she'd inflicted and what more she could do. It was a hectic mixture of smoke, flames and twisted wreckage. There were a couple of prone figures too and Hermione tried to pretend that the sight of them didn't prickle at her conscience.

She was about to throw her potions at the navigation panel when she realised that she recognised the 3D holographic buildings it was portraying. Unless the smoke fumes were doing something very strange to her head, it looked exactly like the tall buildings of Canary Wharf!

What was Malekith doing on Earth, and in London, no less? If he unleashed the full power of the Aether here, her whole world would be destroyed!

Hermione returned to her hiding place and stored the potion back into her pocket. Destroying the ship was no longer important; somehow, she _had_ to stop Malekith.

The ship quaked and groaned alarmingly, forcing Hermione to hold a hand against the wall to steady herself. Her attacks were not strong enough to have caused that. The ship must be landing.

She desperately searched her magical pocket again for her spare wand but was unsuccessful. With a bitter sigh, she pulled out her phone and typed a quick message to alert S.H.I.E.L.D. to the emergency taking place in London. Some backup would be nice but she knew it would take some time for anyone to get to her.

The ship ground to a halt and she disapparated, reappearing on the roof of the O2 Arena to gauge exactly where the aircraft had landed. As it towered over all the nearby buildings, it was easy to spot in the midst of Greenwich's Old Royal Naval College.

Pulling up the hood on her cloak, Hermione apparated to a small dome on top of one of the buildings to get a closer look at what Malekith was up to. There were two startled yelps at her arrival.

" _Hermione?"_ a female voice asked in surprise.

Turning, Hermione saw that the two people she'd alarmed were Jane and Erik Selvig. She'd had no clue what had become of Thor, Jane and Loki when she'd taken on the Dark Elves' ship and had hoped that they'd be all right, but she certainly hadn't expected to come across them here in Greenwich – not that she wasn't infinitely relieved that she wouldn't be going up against Malekith alone.

Hermione found herself on the receiving end of a quick one-armed hug from Jane. "Oh, thank God," Jane muttered. "We thought you were dead for sure. Thor's going to be so happy to see you."

"But how did you know Malekith would come here?" Hermione questioned them both.

Erik pointed over her shoulder and she turned, eyes widening at the large portal that had appeared in the sky. "The Ancients left us signs to the location of the Convergence," he explained.

"From here, Malekith can unleash the power of the Aether on all of the Nine Realms at once. With the worlds connected, the weapon's impact is hugely amplified," Jane added gravely as the Dark Elf in question strode confidently from the ship, followed by a score of others carrying weapons.

"So, what's the plan?" Hermione asked, returning her gaze to Jane and Erik. "There _is_ a plan, right?"

Jane's explanation of causing distracting gravimetric anomalies with Erik's devices was punctuated by the sudden arrival below them of Thor, ready to confront and delay Malekith.

"And what about Loki?" Hermione enquired, looking around for a sign of the trickster.

"Dead!" Erik said cheerfully.

Hermione didn't quite know how to feel about that news so she brushed it aside. If she managed to live past the next few minutes, she'd think about it later.

More portals started appearing in the sky as Jane ran to the other side of the dome to check how Darcy and Ian (Darcy's intern) were getting on with grounding the devices around the site. Below them, Malekith was assaulting Thor with the Aether; blasting it at him as he had done with Hermione earlier. Luckily, the Asgardian didn't feel the effects of the power as much as she did and he seemed relatively unscathed after each attack.

Hermione looked up at the portals thoughtfully. "If I could transport Malekith to another part of the world, he wouldn't be able to use the convergence to destroy the Nine Realms, would he?"

Jane and Erik shared a calculating look. "No," they said in unison.

Hermione felt rejuvenated at the prospect of a solution that she could actually carry out without her wand; there was hope for the universe yet.

"Just beware of the anomalies," Jane warned as she fiddled with an electronic device looped around her neck. "Physics is going to be a little crazy for the next few minutes – not that its laws necessarily apply to you the way they do everyone else."

Hermione nodded and pulled out the Night-Night gun she'd been given by FitzSimmons. Should the anomalies accidentally transport her amongst her enemies or to another realm, she didn't want to be caught unprepared, and the weapon would deal with her foes without compromising her morals. With a nod at Jane and Erik, she apparated down to the grounds below but was a second too late as Thor had used Mjølnir to launch Malekith in a powerful arc across the courtyard; her fingers grasped nothing but empty air.

Thor gave a joyful shout at her appearance and she gave him a brief, encouraging nod before turning back to the invaders.

A number of Dark Elves had been caught in Malekith's path and were sprawled on the floor but those that weren't, raised their weapons at her. Hermione quickly fired the Night-Night gun at a couple of the creatures before apparating to roughly where Malekith had come to a stop.

A typical black London taxi had borne the brunt of Malekith's momentum and had nearly been torn in two by the force of the impact. Hermione had apparated just a few feet from him and desperately surged forwards to grab him. She doubted Malekith knew what she intended to do but, when he caught sight of her, he started summoning the Aether, intending to launch it at her. Knowing that she would be unable to protect herself against it, Hermione quickly flew away, aborting her attack.

Her place was taken by Thor, who landed smashing Mjølnir into the ground. Lighting crackled along the surface of the road and up Malekith's body, turning the rest of his face black too.

Hermione wished she could talk to Thor for just a moment, to tell him she could get Malekith away from London if she could only grab the dark elf. She could call out to Thor, of course, but that would rather give the game away to Malekith as well.

However, with Malekith being kept occupied by battling Thor, now might by the moment to strike – she'd just have to try and avoid being caught in the crosshairs of their rather volatile battle.

Having been circling around their heads for the last few seconds, Hermione dove at Malekith, intending to take on her solid form at the last moment.

Out of the blue, she impacted hard into a cool, tiled floor and there were shouts and screams of alarm around her. Dazed and struggling to draw in breath, it took Hermione a moment to realise that she must have slipped through one of those anomalies Jane had warned her of.

"Do – do you think she's OK?" a concerned voice whispered nearby.

"Don't go near her!" another voice said in alarm. "How do you know what side she's on?"

"It looked like she was trying to take on the big baddie out there," a third voice pointed out. "You know, before she turned into smoke."

Quickly tucking the Night-Night gun into a normal pocket, Hermione transformed into her falcon form before any of the muggles got too close. A number of expletives were let loose at her change.

"Bloody hell! I've just realised who she must be!"

"That's the Sorceress!"

Their amazement turned to more screams when all the windows in the room shattered. Hermione circled around the ceiling once and then soared through the remains of a window, careful not to cut herself on any glass.

Thor and Malekith were just a few feet away and she wondered which was the safest way to get to them without travelling through one of the anomalies. Her deliberation was stalled by the sight of Thor and Malekith disappearing through one of the glitches. She landed on the nearest roof and transformed into human form. She waited a few seconds for them to reappear but there was no sign. Hermione tried to take that as a good omen – if Malekith wasn't here then he couldn't unleash the Aether on the Nine Realms. She'd stay close by in case either Thor or Malekith reappeared but there were still the other Dark Elves to take care of. A couple of the creatures were running on the path below her. She quickly dropped them with the Night-Night gun and listened out for further sounds of commotion.

Nearby screams echoed to her left and she ran along the roof and straight through another anomaly. Hermione shivered and gaped around at the freezing, wintry landscape she found herself in. Enormous jagged, dark, vertical stones sprouted haphazardly around her, looking eerily beautiful – but that beauty wouldn't stop the extreme cold freezing her to death in a few minutes' time. Hermione stumbled quickly through the snow, hoping to come across another glitch to take her back to Earth – or at least somewhere warmer!

Suddenly, the world around her changed again. She dropped a few feet to the ground, the unexpected change in orientation causing her to roll down a grassy slope. Amid the familiar surprised yells at her arrival, Hermione winced as she threw out her injured hand to stop her momentum.

"Oi!" an annoyed voice shouted. "Get off the grass! Can't you read the signs?"

Hermione managed to somehow glance around her surroundings while pulling her cloak further over her face at the same time. With a gulp, she realised she was right in the inner part of the Tower of London. Plenty of tourists were milling around the area and she was very relieved that they hadn't noticed the firearm she was holding in her other hand. Seeing as they'd already witnessed her sudden arrival, she didn't see the harm in making a quick getaway either, so she disapparated to get back to Greenwich.

Judging by the rocky outcrop she found herself standing on, overlooking dense, green woodland, she hadn't quite managed to reach her destination…

Hermione managed to repress a growl of frustration at the unpredictability of the situation and instead swept her gaze along the horizon to determine whether she was on Earth or one of the other realms. If she _was_ on her own planet then she could apparate back to London (providing the Convergence would let her!).

A huge, curved stone structure in the distance caught her eye and she frowned; it didn't _look_ particularly Earth-like.

She flew off in apparation mode, hoping to get lucky with another anomaly and narrowly avoided abruptly colliding with the Dark Elves' flagship that was still parked in Greenwich. She veered downwards and landed in a sprawled heap at the base of the ship. Looking up, she saw that the portals were growing larger as the Convergence reached its peak. Hermione got to her feet and resolved to stay where she was. If _she_ had managed to get back to Greenwich then there was every chance that Malekith would too and she'd be here to stop him.

And it seemed like the fates were finally on her side, for Malekith appeared on the ground not even ten feet away from her. He hadn't seen her, so she sprinted forwards and lunged for his arm, getting a decent hold on him. She twisted, thinking of a remote part of Lapland she'd once had to visit… and found herself amidst Jane, Erik, Darcy and Ian.

They let out strangled yells at her arrival and when they saw what she was clutching in her hand they yelped even louder. Hermione glanced sideways, expecting to see Malekith but there was just his arm! Somehow the disturbances of the Convergence had caused her to splinch him.

"Great," she muttered sarcastically as the others continued to gape at the limb. "It didn't work."

Something shifted in the air behind them and Hermione turned to look over her shoulder. Grimly, she saw that losing his arm hadn't particularly troubled Malekith because he had started to unleash the Aether.

Hermione thrust the arm in Darcy's direction.

"Ew! Gross!" she protested, flinging the limb at Jane instead.

"I'm going back to try again," Hermione said to the four of them. "You should all get as far away from here as possible."

Before any of them could respond, she disapparated, aiming for the spot she'd just vacated. She was close, but not close enough. Malekith saw her coming and kicked her forcefully in the chest. Her silver breast plate bore most of the impact but she was still propelled back a dozen feet. From her aching and winded position on the floor, Hermione raised the Night-Night gun and fired it at the Dark Elf. She didn't expect it to make much of an impact should it hit him but it was all she was capable of doing at that moment.

The rising swirl of the Aether rapidly increased in ferocity and the air around her was nothing but a savage black and red gale. Hermione strained to get to her feet, to move even an inch, but the strength of the Aether was too much. She could no longer see Malekith. There was only red and black.

And then there was only black.

Only the darkness.

* * *

Hermione gradually became aware of a sensation of weightlessness. Was this death? If it was, then it wasn't so bad. She felt almost protected, secure.

Slowly, her other senses began to develop. There were distant sounds, possibly voices, and she realised that something solid was supporting her back and underneath her knees. So she wasn't dead after all – someone (she assumed Thor) was carrying her. She tried to open her eyes or make her mouth function to tell him that she was fine and he could put her down, but she had no strength to even whisper.

The sounds around her began to become clearer. And there was something else; something that made her happy but her brain couldn't quite comprehend what it was. She puzzled over this for a moment and then her mind finally made the connection: Steve. The scent she'd been breathing in for the last few minutes was definitely his. With a jolt of adrenaline she forced her eyes open and gleefully saw that she was right.

He hadn't noticed that she was awake and, even though the light was somewhat overpowering for her eyes, she could still see how tense his jaw was. She tried to lift her arm to place a comforting hand to his cheek but had to settle for putting it against his chest instead. His eyes flashed down to her and she saw most of the tension drain away immediately.

"Hey," he said softly, bending down to press his lips to her forehead. "It's over. Thor stopped whoever it was you were fighting."

She peered up at him drowsily. "You're not Loki, are you?" she mumbled.

Steve's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Loki?" he repeated.

Hermione shook her head slightly as she remembered. "Never mind; he's dead."

"He _is_?"

"Long story," she murmured.

"Seems like it," Steve replied and Hermione sensed an aggravated edge to his voice.

"You're mad?" she questioned.

"No!" he protested quickly, shifting her body position so she was sat more upright. "Just… frustrated. You left the hotel and then never came back. I didn't know what to think!"

"It was Thor's fault," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighed. "He's already explained. But you can't expect me not to worry when you disappear like that."

"I worry about you on assignments too!" she protested.

"But even S.H.I.E.L.D didn't really know what was going on this time," he added. "You normally send me your otter to let me know you're OK but this time it was just a waiting game; I've been on edge for nearly three days."

"I couldn't exactly send a patronus across space!" she grumbled.

Steve kissed her forehead again. "Ignore me. I'm so relieved you're going to be alright that I'm just talking nonsense."

Hermione laid her head on Steve's shoulder but her mind dwelled on his concerns. She considered how she would feel if the situation was reversed and her stomach twisted sickeningly at the thought of him being MIA for even a couple of hours. She supposed that them both being in the same line of work didn't make things any easier because they knew precisely how much danger each other faced on a regular basis.

"The medical team are on their way to look at you," Steve said softly. "Apparently London's come to a bit of a standstill."

"How'd you get here then?"

"I ran as soon as S.H.I.E.L.D let me know you were in Greenwich. I arrived about a minute after it was all over."

"But…our hotel's in Covent Garden!" Hermione said in amazement at the distance he had travelled in such a short time.

"That's why it took me so long to get here," he replied simply. "You were in a pretty sorry state – you still are, really. I brought you in here for a bit of privacy."

Hermione glanced around at the wooden pews and ornately decorated ceiling. "Are we in a church?"

"Chapel," Steve corrected. "The battle took place just out there," he explained, nodding towards the door, which was suddenly thrown open to admit Thor, Jane, Darcy, Ian and Dr Selvig.

"Hey, Captain Gorgeous!" Darcy called. "Is she awake yet?" Darcy noticed that Ian was frowning at her. "What? I say it like I see it. You're totally still my hero." It looked very strongly like the two of them were about to engage in a passionate bout of kissing but Jane diverted their attention by shouting that Hermione was conscious.

"You're one tough cookie," Jane said admiringly as she came to kneel on the pew in front of Hermione and Steve. "That's the second time in a few hours that I've been convinced that you'd died!"

Hermione felt Steve tense against her.

"Ha!" Thor barked. "Even exposure to the full force of the Aether is not enough to stop our supreme Sorceress!" His buoyant demeanour was tempered for a moment as he regarded her. "You were prepared to die for the people of the Nine Realms, Hermione. They all owe you a debt of gratitude and I will make sure your praises are sung from Asgard to Nornheim!"

"That's _really_ not necessary," she insisted.

"But of course it is! You battled Malekith and the might of the Aether even without your weapon of choice –"

" _You didn't have your wand?!_ " Steve interrupted incredulously.

"Malekith broke it," Hermione muttered, not meeting his gaze.

"And seeing Jane with his dismembered arm helped me realise I could use the anomalies themselves to defeat him," Thor continued.

"The victory belongs to us all," Hermione maintained and Thor smiled widely at his friends.

"Indeed, it does," he agreed. "And I'm glad I was able to get you back to your betrothed in one piece."

"Just about," Steve muttered.

Thor nodded grimly. "I congratulate you on your engagement, my friend," he said, shaking Steve's hand. "And I promise to give you fair warning the next time I abscond with your fiancée."

The rush of adrenaline Hermione had felt at the sight of Steve was definitely waning. She realised just how sore her wrist was and how much her body ached.

"Hold up," Darcy said. "You two are getting married?"

Hermione hummed in confirmation and closed her eyes.

"Well, we're all invited to the wedding, right?" Darcy asked hopefully.

"Sure," Hermione sighed, starting to drift off to sleep.

"Yes!" Darcy cried. "Verbal confirmation – no backsies!"

* * *

Hermione strode through the corridors of the Triskelion, barely able to stop herself skipping in excitement. She nodded her head at various colleagues, some of whom knew her simply as ordinary S.H.I.E.L.D worker Saskia Hailsham-Grey, others who knew she was the Sorceress and fewer who knew she was truly just Hermione Granger.

She made her way to Operations, knowing that's where she would find Steve. In this part of S.H.I.E.L.D's Headquarters, everyone knew who she really was because they were the people she worked with week in, week out. For the first couple of months after she'd become an agent, stares would follow her wherever she went. They were discreet about their fascination but she wouldn't be a good operative if she wasn't aware of them. Interest in her was rejuvenated slightly after the battle of New York but that was more because a good number of her fellow agents didn't have clearance to know what had really taken place in Midtown. And then, two months ago, after Greenwich, she'd felt their eyes on her back again because the world finally had footage of the Sorceress. Thankfully, there wasn't much and the amateur footage hadn't been of high enough quality to show the part of her face that wasn't hidden under the hood of her cloak. Muggles in Greenwich had used their phones to record a small part of her initial attempts to confront Malekith and her transformation into a falcon. A couple of startled tourists had even caught her sudden arrival and departure at the Tower of London. The images and videos of herself and Thor had been uploaded onto social media and shared worldwide far too quickly for S.H.I.E.L.D to do anything to stop them.

When Hermione had first become aware of the unwanted attention a few hours later, she'd very nearly descended into a panic attack, believing that the muggle world would find out who she was, the wizarding world would discover that she was working with muggles and she'd most likely be sent to Azkaban! Not understanding the reasons for Hermione's panic, Darcy had shown her the footage and Hermione had almost sunk to the floor in relief. You _couldn't_ identify her in any of the media and her lack of wand was actually a blessing in disguise. Any witch or wizard who happened to catch sight of her in the muggle news would probably be suspicious of someone who could change form into an animal or instantly disappear, but if she didn't arm herself with a _wand_ , they would dismiss her as the latest muggle capable of incredible things. At least that's what she _hoped._

The very few magical people who were already in the know about her collaboration with muggles would have known her for what she truly was. Kingsley had summoned her for a discussion to get a first-hand account of events, the same as he'd done after New York, and he agreed that they'd been very fortunate. And, so far, Harry and Kingsley had reassured her that there had been little chatter about the Sorceress in the magical world except to scoff at what a phony she was.

Reaction in the muggle world had been somewhat different. The cries of, 'Aliens!' were a lot stronger this time than after New York. One of the side effects of the Convergence had meant disruption to signals and satellites in the British capital, but in a relatively low-rise city such as London, a huge space ship wasn't exactly hard to miss. However, the security forces and intelligence agencies were quick to point out to the public that there _was_ no ship. Well, not anymore, at least, for Dr Selvig had used his technology to send it to another realm. The people in charge of the cover up stated that the vessel and the 'creatures' that emerged from it, were a very elaborate hoax by an unknown terrorist force to spread fear and cause panic. Thanks to Hermione's message of warning, S.H.I.E.L.D had been very quickly on the scene and had locked down the area to control the situation as much as possible. The initial cries were one of a cover up but, just as they did after New York, the clamouring died down quickly. Humankind was far happier to deny something that was staring them in the face because admitting they weren't alone in the universe was a terrifying prospect that would completely revolutionise the world (even Thor wasn't believed to be alien by a huge majority of the human population!). No, it was far easier to go on pretending that nothing had changed.

There were, of course, plenty of people who weren't buying the official story and Hermione suspected that S.H.I.E.L.D had been happy to confirm that the Sorceress and Thor had been present in London in order to appease these individuals. This was the first time that the existence of the Sorceress had been formally established to the world (despite exceedingly strong rumours after New York) and it was the first time she'd been caught on camera. Focus in the media lasted a lot longer on her than it did on the 'aliens' angle because she was a much more credible story. When she'd first returned to the Triskelion after her enforced layoff after London, there had been front pages of newspapers from all over the world stuck up on various walls of Operations, all bearing various grainy images of her cloak-clad figure. Hermione had borne plenty of teasing from Ron, Fred and George over the years so she was able to just let the attention bounce off of her, but she still found it embarrassing.

Hermione spotted Steve casually chatting to Clint and Brock Rumlow. She felt another thrill of excitement at what was to come but hid it so as not to give anything away.

Clint was the first to see her and he grinned widely before bowing elaborately. "All hail the mighty Sorceress; defender of the Nine Realms!" he cried, eyes twinkling from where he looked up at her.

"Shut up you _ben tian sheng de yi dui rou_ ," Hermione casually retaliated, causing Brock to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

Clint also looked stunned for a second and then he straightened up and laughed in delight. "You guys actually listened to me and watched _Firefly_?" he asked, looking enthusiastically between Hermione and Steve. "They've got the best swearing in TV history and no one even knows because they do it in Chinese!"

Brock looked at her curiously. "What did you call him?"

"A stupid, inbred stack of meat," Hermione replied serenely and Clint clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

" _Wong ba duhn_ , Hermione; you can't even make yourself curse properly in another language!" he protested before turning to Steve. "What about you, Cap? You got any good Mandarin swears you're willing to say?"

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm quite fond of, _qing wa cao de liu mang_ : frog-humping son of a bitch."

"Well, that's slightly more like it, I suppose," Clint muttered, still not that impressed. "You here for an Op?" he asked Hermione but she shook her head.

"No, I'm here to take the birthday boy out for lunch," she replied, beaming at Steve.

"Oh, hey, many happy returns. I should've known that Captain America was born on the fourth of July of all days," Clint said slapping his friend on the back and Brock did likewise. Then Clint stared at Steve with a thoughtful expression on his face. "So, how old are you exactly? You into three digits yet?"

"I'm ninety-five if you go by my birth certificate," he replied.

"Man, that's old," Clint claimed, eyes wide.

"But, biologically, I'm twenty-eight," Steve pointed out, which was the number that both he and Hermione were more comfortable with.

"That number is a lot less crazy," Brock commented wryly.

"Yeah, but you should have said something," Clint protested. "Otherwise I would've got you a present… Or probably just a card… Maybe."

"Thanks, Barton," Steve said sarcastically.

"Well, I _do_ have a gift of sorts," Brock said, walking over to a work station. "But it's for you, Granger. Sorry, Cap." He came back with a relatively large, sealed metal box.

"What is it?" she asked in surprise.

"I don't know," Brock replied, handing it over. "It got dropped off this morning."

Curiously, Hermione used her wand to cut away the protections on the package and lifted the lid, the three men looking over her shoulder. Her eyes widened at the contents.

"Huh," Barton said simply. "I wasn't expecting that."

Hermione reached into the box and lifted up the dress that had been neatly folded inside. "Is this some sort of joke?" she asked, her eyes seeking out Brock.

He held his hands up defensively. "It's got nothing to do with me."

Hermione frowned down at the material in her hands. Judging by the silver breastplate that was part of the ensemble, whoever designed the outfit had obviously taken inspiration from the clothes she'd been seen wearing at Greenwich. The top half of the dress was a dark navy, decorated with miniscule silver stars. The very bottom of her skirt was of the same blue, but gradually lightened until it met the adjoining fabric at the hips. The breastplate was engraved with tiny whirls apart from two large, red symbols that formed a strange, swirly cross in the centre of the plate.

"Wow. S.H.I.E.L.D obviously make more of an effort in the style stakes with your superhero outfit if you make the front pages," Clint said, looking admiringly at the dress.

"Are those crossed symbols supposed to be S's for Sorceress?" Steve asked, pointing to the red marks on her breastplate.

Brock tilted his head one way and then the other. "Yeah, could be. Hey, look, there's more in here too." He pointed inside the box which Hermione had put on the side. She passed the dress to Steve and took out the remaining items: a silky silver cloak, complete with hood, and a pair of white, knee-high boots.

"New uniform to be worn on future assignments," Brock read from the bottom of the box.

"Well, go try it on then," Clint suggested eagerly. "I want to see how badass you look." When Hermione didn't respond, Clint looked at Steve. "She's not saying anything. That's not good, is it?"

Steve shook his head minutely. He knew full well that a quiet Hermione wasn't normally a happy Hermione.

" _Bao bei_?" Steve prompted, using the Mandarin term of endearment they'd adopted.

Hermione looked up at him, still frowning. "Why would they make me wear something like this? On assignments I take Polyjuice potion or disillusion myself so as not to draw attention. This uniform completely contradicts that!"

"Hey, don't think for a second that you're going to stop taking those precautions," Brock gruffly reassured her. "I still run your assignments and my priority is for you to succeed in the most efficient way possible."

"But seeing how you always manage to find trouble, there are bound to be times when the inconspicuous methods won't be the right call," Steve pointed out. "And in those times, a superhero deserves a super-suit." Hermione sent him a sharp look. He knew very well that she didn't consider herself in the same league as her fellow Avengers. She was just a witch – there were plenty of others like her around the world. Whenever she was called a superhero, she felt like a fraud.

"The world wants to connect with you," Clint shrugged. "It's hard for them to do that with just a few fuzzy images. You're a brand now. Hey – you might get your own action figure after all!"

"So this is about making money out of me?" Hermione asked, holding up her cloak and boots and wrinkling her nose.

"No!" Clint objected. "Well, maybe for a few people. But do you have any idea how many little girls I've seen around the world wrapping sheets or towels around themselves, pretending to be you?"

"What sort of places do you hang out in?" Brock asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't have to look hard," Clint protested. "They're out there in the streets imagining casting spells and turning into animals. They love you."

"And it's not just kids," Brock added. "What about all those newspaper front pages people were sticking up to support you when you got back from London?"

Hermione stared at him. "But… they were making fun of me, teasing me… weren't they?"

"You know, for someone so smart, you can be quite dense sometimes," Brock claimed. "The people here are _proud_ of you, dumbass."

"Yeah, and don't tell him," Clint stage whispered, "but you might even be more popular around here than Captain America."

"Woah, that's a big call," Brock claimed, holding out a protesting hand. "But he's right. I've never heard anybody say a bad word about either of you. It's sickening."

Steve put a comforting hand on the back of her neck and Hermione buried her face in the silky fabric of the cape for a second, head buzzing with what Clint and Brock had said.

"When I first got the Captain America name and costume, I was little more than a joke," Steve explained softly. "But that suit and shield ended up being something far bigger than me."

Hermione nodded. "You give people hope."

"And you do the same," Steve pointed out, "except up until a couple of months ago you've been able to do it from the shadows. You're not going to wear this suit on assignment all the time – that would be recklessly stupid. But I get the feeling that the last couple of years have only been the beginning. The people of this world are going to need all the strength they can get; let them take some of it from the idea of the Sorceress."

Hermione sighed and nodded again. "Thank you, all of you. Can we, er, forget this mini moment ever happened?"

"Sure, _Mei-Mei_ ," Clint agreed. "As long as you try on the suit!"

" _Fine!_ " Hermione relented, taking the dress back from Steve and walking in the direction of the nearest toilets. "But no laughing!"

She apparated back to them a couple of minutes later, eager for as few people to see her as possible. The three men were so used to her instant arrivals that none of them even flinched at the crack.

"Happy now?" Hermione asked Clint, hands on her hips.

"Hell, yeah!" he replied with a grin. "You look awesome!"

"You really do," Steve agreed, a look of pride on his face.

"Boss?" she asked, turning to Brock.

"I don't like the cloak," he said bluntly. "It's going to be a nuisance and get in your way."

"But the hood helps shield my face," she replied, which was something she was very keen on. "And the dress is too restricting for me to spell on one of my pockets; I need the extra layer to carry around all my things.

Brock shrugged. "I'm just saying what I think but, at the end of the day, it's your suit."

"You know, you are _so_ lucky that when the world finally saw you, you were wearing a decent outfit to begin with," Clint pointed out. "Imagine if it had all kicked off when you were dressed in horrible undercover clothes and you had to wear them for the rest of your active missions because 'that's what the Sorceress wears'!"

She _was_ lucky, she had to agree with him there. "Well, the outfit designers obviously weren't a fan of turquoise," Hermione pointed out. "That was the colour scheme of the original dress."

Clint's eyes suddenly widened and he burst out laughing. The other three looked at him in confusion.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked self-consciously. "I told you not to laugh."

Clint was bent double by this point, clutching at his stomach. "I don't believe it!" he rasped between laughs. "It's too good!"

"Anybody have any idea what he's on about?" Steve asked but Hermione and Brock shook their heads.

"You've got matching Mr and Mrs supersuits!" Clint wheezed, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.

"What?!" Hermione yelped, looking down at herself and then over to Steve. He wasn't wearing his latest Captain America suit but she'd seen it enough times to have it memorized, and she realized that its dark navy colour scheme was exactly the same as hers. And then there were the white boots and the red symbol on her breastplate! She hadn't worn _anything_ red or white in Greenwich…

"Please, _please_ , tell me you're going to wear those outfits on your wedding day!" Clint begged and then descended into laughter again with Brock joining in.

"I still think you look great," Steve maintained, which only made the other two laugh harder.

Suffice to say, Hermione didn't keep the suit on much longer. She wasn't at all embarrassed about her connection with Steve; she just didn't appreciate her relationship being manipulated by the S.H.I.E.L.D top brass. If she ever found out who had made the call to match her suit to his, that person could very well be on the receiving end of an unwelcome jinx.

In the wake of uniform-gate, she'd almost forgotten why she was there and why she'd been in such a good mood a few minutes earlier. Steve was waiting for her outside the toilets and she brushed her various feelings about the suit aside, determined not to let them overshadow his birthday.

"Are you alright?" he asked when she emerged and Hermione flashed him a brilliant smile.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "It was just a bit of a shock, that's all." She laced her fingers through his, something she wouldn't normally do when they were at work together, and started tugging him towards the lift. "Let's go to lunch; I'm _starving_."

He looked a little surprised at her insistent behaviour. "OK. You know it's going to be difficult to negotiate the traffic with the parade road closures, right? Maybe I should leave my bike here and you can use your shortcut to get us around," he suggested, referring to her apparating ability.

"Oh, no, I'm sure it'll be fine," Hermione replied, pressing the button that would take them down to the car park. Steve accepted her confidence and absentmindedly ran his fingers over the ring he'd placed on her left hand as they quickly descended to the right level.

Walking amongst the vehicles, Hermione's smile became genuine again. She pulled a small, wrapped box from her pocket and held it out to him. "This is for you."

He paused, surprised by the suddenness of the presentation. "But…" he looked between her and the gift in confusion. "You already gave me this watch this morning!" Obviously thinking she'd somehow forgotten, he showed her the silver time keeping device on his wrist and even pressed the button that revealed its double function. In response to Steve's justified concerns regarding her abrupt departure from Earth with Thor, Hermione had thought about how she could offer him reassurance about her welfare when she was on assignments. Her solution was to give him a version of Mrs Weasley's clock back at The Burrow. When Steve pressed a specific button on his new watch, the face would change to show a single dial that would point at one of ten words to reveal her current location: work, shopping, travelling, holiday, socialising, lost, mortal peril, appointment, off world or home.

Hermione shrugged. "I wanted to give you this too."

"You're spoiling me," he claimed but he took the gift anyway.

"You deserve it," she said in reply and bobbed excitedly on the balls of her feet as he unwrapped the box and opened the lid. He stared at the key inside for a moment and then looked up at her. "What…?"

Hermione stepped aside and, with a flourish, indicated the vintage motorbike she'd been standing in front of. "I told you I'd think about it, didn't I?"

When he realised what she was referring to, Steve gaped at her. "You mean… this is a _flying_ motorcycle?"

Hermione nodded, beaming. "I had some help to get it done. Harry had a much greater idea about the magic involved so he helped me with that side of things. I also had some assistance from a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D agents to add on some more advanced muggle technology too."

Steve had slowly walked down the length of the bike, gripping the handle bars and crouching down to inspect the bike further.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked tentatively in wake of his quiet reaction. She stood next to him. "I've written a manual for you so you know what the different – " The rest of the sentence was cut off by her squeal as Steve lifted her in his arms and spun her around.

"Whatever did I do to deserve you?" he asked in amazement as he lowered her down. Hermione twined her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly.

"That's not the right question," she claimed.

He raised an eyebrow. " _No?_ "

Hermione shook her head and pulled away from him to sit astride the motorbike. "You should have asked me where you should fly us for lunch."

Steve chuckled, kissed her again and sat in front of her on the bike. Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist. "I told you we didn't need to worry about the traffic and road closures!"

* * *

A/N Wooo, long chapter! Sorry if that was a bit of a slog!

The _Firefly_ reference is a shout out to Joss Whedon and also to my sister who was begging me to watch the show for years before I actually did. I don't know whether Steve and Hermione would have actually watched that particular show but it's only thirteen episodes and a film so it wouldn't have been a particularly huge commitment. If any of your were wondering here are the translations of the terms they used (or what the internet tells me they mean!) :

Bao bei – Precious, darling, sweetheart, treasure

Mei-mei – Little sister

Wong ba duhn – Son of a bitch

I was totally against Hermione having a superhero outfit for a long time for the reasons that she states above - she doesn't need one! But it already annoys me how little females are represented in superhero films so I wanted to give her the credit she deserved. I drew her outfit (very badly) and my incredible sister took that and turned it into the most amazing picture. So, if you want to see Hermione's outfit take a look at my author picture. Isn't it awesome! I love you, Hannah!

One reviewer said that I like knocking Hermione out which, I suppose, is kinda true - not that I like causing her pain but because she's so much stronger than everyone else that it's pretty much the only way to stop her! If that's something that bothers you, you're not going to be much happier as we go (pretty extensively) through Winter Soldier!

Please drop me a review, either for the chapter or my sister's artwork! :)

Lil Drop of Magic


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Hello readers! Thank you for your responses to the previous chapter; they're much appreciated! As we move into Captain America 2, I just thought you might need to be notified that I have no claim on anything you recognise from Winter Soldier. You know, just in case you weren't sure...

* * *

"On your left," Steve warned courteously as he ran past a fellow jogger in the early dawn light. Steve wouldn't normally describe Washington DC as tranquil but, at that time of day amongst the beautiful lawns, calm waters and poignant memorials, it really was.

He came up on the same runner again. "On your left," he repeated.

"Uh-huh, on my left. Got it," the man replied as Steve rapidly left him behind.

It wasn't too long before Steve was coming up to lap him for the third occasion but, this time, the jogger decided to put up more of a fight. "Don't say it," he said desperately, hearing Steve's rapid footfalls and trying to inject a bit of speed into his own run. "Don't you say it!"

"On your left."

" _Come on_!" The jogger let out a frustrated cry as Steve sprinted past him.

The next time Steve saw the man he was slumped against a tree, panting for breath, his dark skin drenched with sweat.

Steve walked over, his own workout done for the day. "Need a medic?" he called teasingly.

The man chuckled and shook his head. "I need a new pair of lungs! Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes!"

"I guess I got a late start," Steve joked.

He laughed again. "Oh, really? You should be ashamed of yourself," he said sarcastically. "You should take another lap." He winced a moment and then looked back at Steve. "Did you take it? I assume you just took it," he mocked good-naturedly.

"What unit are you with?" Steve enquired, pointing to the insignia on the man's sweater.

"Fifty-eighth, para-rescue," he replied. "But now I'm working down at the VA." He held out his hand, silently requesting a bit of assistance to get up and Steve pulled him to his feet. "Sam Wilson," he introduced.

"Steve Rogers."

"I kinda put that together," Sam replied. "Must've freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting thing."

"It takes some getting used to," Steve agreed. "It's good to meet you, Sam." He lifted his hand in a parting gesture and turned to leave, intending to meet Hermione.

"It's your bed, right?" Sam called. Steve paused and looked back.

"What's that?"

"Your bed, it's too soft," Sam explained. "When I was over there I'd sleep on the ground, use rocks as pillows like a caveman. Now I'm home, lying on my bed, it's like…"

"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve said. "I remember that feeling; like you're going to sink right through to the floor."

Sam raised an eyebrow. " _Remember_ that feeling?"

"My fiancée," Steve supplied. "She has this trick that makes my side of the bed much harder." When he and Hermione had first started sharing each other's bed, it hadn't taken her long to notice his unease with the mattress and now it was second nature for her to cast her spell on whatever bed they slept on: hers, his, hotels or their one in Avengers Tower. Truth be told, the whole mattress would feel pretty rigid to Steve and he suspected that it also felt perfectly soft for Hermione but he tried not to attempt to make sense of her spells for fear that it would leave him very confused.

"Fiancée, huh?" Sam looked impressed. "Congrats, man."

"Thanks."

"So, if it's not the bed, what, you just _like_ being up this early in the morning?"

Steve chuckled at Sam's disbelieving tone. "It has its advantages," Steve allowed. "But, uh, most mornings one of us will wake before dark. Bad dreams, you know?"

Sam nodded grimly. "Does she serve?"

"In a manner of speaking. She's here somewhere; we have to run separate routes because she likes me passing her just as much as you do. She gets the museums and I get the memorials."

Sam crossed his arms and nodded. "Sounds like you've adapted pretty well to the twenty-first century. You don't miss the good old days?"

"Bits and pieces," Steve allowed. "The food's much better here; we used to boil everything. No polio is good. Internet, so helpful. I read that a lot, trying to catch up on things I've missed."

"Marvin Gaye, 1972, _Trouble Man_ soundtrack," Sam suggested. "Everything you've missed jammed onto one album."

Steve nodded, taking out a notebook and pen from his pocket. "I'll put it on the list." Flicking to the correct page, he wrote ' _Troubleman (Soundtrack)_ ' underneath other recent additions to his 'To do' list, such as _Rocky (Rocky II?),The West Wing (TV Series)_ and _Thai Food_.

His phone trilled to alert him to a message. Taking it out, he read: _MISSION ALERT. EXTRACTION IMMINENT. MEET AT THE CURB. :)_

"All right, Sam," Steve said, tucking his phone away. "Duty calls. Thanks for the run – if that's what you wanna call running," he added playfully mocking.

" _Oh_ , that's how it is?" Sam chuckled, shaking the proffered hand.

"Oh, that's how it is," Steve confirmed with a grin.

"Any time you and your fiancée want to stop by the VA and make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know," Sam suggested.

Steve smiled. "I'll keep it in mind."

A black sports car pulled up behind him, the window rolling down to reveal Natasha at the wheel.

"Hey, fellas," she called. "Either of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil."

"That's hilarious," Steve replied dryly as he walked over to the car and got in.

Sam squatted down, giving both the car and Natasha an appreciative look. "How you doing?" he said to her.

"Hey," she replied simply, with a small twist of her lips.

"You can't run everywhere," Steve pointed out.

"No, you can't," Sam said admiringly. Natasha rolled the window up again and they pulled off into the traffic.

"Are we heading to Base?" Steve asked.

"Not yet," Natasha replied. "We've got to pick someone else up first."

Steve looked around the two-seat Corvette in surprise. "But – "

"Don't worry, she'll fit; she's small," Natasha added, pulling over next to a jogging figure that Steve would recognise anywhere. "See?"

When Hermione didn't stop running, Natasha revved the engine loudly and made the car crawl along next to her.

"Hey," Steve called as the window lowered. Hermione spared him a glance but kept on task, her ponytail bobbing along behind her.

"Sitrep?" she panted, obviously not wanting to waste breath or energy in using more words than she needed to find out the current situation.

"Mission time," Natasha called. "They want all three of us."

Hermione finally came to a stumbling halt and bent over, hands on her thighs as she gasped for air. She looked up questioningly at Natasha, switched her gaze to Steve and then back to Natasha. "But, we don't…" She made a gesture between herself and him, too out of breath to finish the rest of her sentence but he and Natasha knew what she was referring to. Since she and Steve had become a couple, Fury had seen to it that they never worked the same assignments. Either the Director had had a change of heart or there was a rather dire situation going on somewhere.

"I'm just following orders," Natasha replied calmly. "Get in, let's go."

Hermione stood, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. "But I'm such a mess," she protested, cheeks still blowing. "Can't I meet you there?"

Natasha's eyes narrowed and a smirk tugged at her lips. "Quinjet MD4, hangar C. If you arrive there even a _second_ after we do, I get Steve's flying motorcycle for a week."

"Hey!" he objected.

"Deal," Hermione agreed shortly.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Steve asked, looking between the two women who were sizing each other up.

"No," they chorused.

Natasha floored the throttle, shooting them into the road. "Woah!" he gasped, clutching his seat tightly as she swerved through the traffic, narrowly avoiding other vehicles and pedestrians too. "It doesn't matter how many innocent civilians you nearly kill, you're still going to lose," he pointed out, trying to make his voice sound less strained.

"Don't try and sabotage me," she muttered, mounting the kerb to overtake a small queue of stationary traffic.

"You're going to get us arrested," he claimed.

"Shut up, Rogers."

He almost offered to let her have a week with the motorcycle anyway, just so she'd stop the dangerous driving, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to trust Natasha with the prized possession after this hair-raising experience.

When they had to wait for the Corvette to get clearance to enter the Triskelion facility a few minutes later, she drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel and barked sharply at the security workers.

Hangar C was the one that was furthest away from them and Steve knew Natasha was cursing this misfortune, not that he thought it would make much of a difference. When they'd gotten as close to the quinjets as security would allow, she parked the car with a huge swerve and the tyres screeched violently. "Get out," she snapped. He did so with a roll of his eyes and followed her quick strides at a much more leisurely pace.

"Are you not going to run?" he called to her. "You look like you could use the workout." Her eyes flashed angrily at him over her shoulder.

"You're going to pay for that comment," she replied in a steely voice that didn't hold even a hint of humour.

"Oh, but it's all right for _you_ to tell _me_ that I had to get my haircut if I didn't want to look like a Rat Pack reject on my wedding?" he retorted.

" _Yes_ , because your hairstyle was ridiculous and needed to be changed whereas I'm in perfect shape," Natasha said loftily. "And _don't_ tell me that Hermione's not happier now that it no longer looks like her fiancé is impersonating her grandfather – she's just too polite to say anything."

Natasha jogged the last few steps to the lowered ramp of the quinjet and Steve did so too – just so he could see the look on Natasha's face when she saw that Hermione was already on board.

Brock Rumlow was at the far end of the jet with his back to them, talking to the pilots but, surprisingly, there was no one else there.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Natasha said in delight, gaping around the jet. "You'd better hand that key over when we get back, Cap."

Rumlow turned at their voices, the change in his body position revealing a previously concealed brunette.

"Are you freaking _kidding_ me?!" Natasha moaned and Hermione grinned toothily as she ambled towards them. She was already wearing her Sorceress suit and Steve recognised the familiar coconut scent of her body wash and hair products so she'd definitely showered even though her hair was dry.

"You two took your time," she said casually, the hem of her cloak swaying in the breeze. "I even managed to pick up some breakfast on the way." In one hand, she held up a porta-tray for takeaway coffees and, in the other, a cardboard box showed an array of fruits, yoghurts and pastries. Steve could see that, over Hermione's shoulder, Rumlow was already tucking into a croissant and sipping a coffee.

"I told you you'd lose," Steve reminded Natasha, grabbing a banana, a still-warm Danish and his labelled coffee. "Thanks, _bao bei_. I already love working with you."

He kissed Hermione's cheek as Natasha eyed the wares on offer coldly.

"I got your favourite," Hermione wheedled, giving the coffee tray a little wiggle. "Medium Caramel macchiato, skimmed milk, sugar free, extra-shot, extra-hot, extra-whip."

"Extra-high maintenance!" Steve scoffed at the ridiculous order.

Natasha sent him another cold look but she accepted the coffee with a sincere, "Thank you," to Hermione. The ramp closed behind them with a clang and Natasha's hands drifted over the food items. Her hand paused over a pain au chocolat and she looked up, sensing Steve's gaze. Her eyes hardened, obviously recalling his earlier joking comment regarding her fitness. "Bite me," she snapped, grabbing the pastry and taking a large mouthful.

A few minutes later, he and Natasha were also suited up and ready to be briefed on the mission. The three of them joined Rumlow around an interactive monitor as the quinjet sped them to their destination.

"The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: _The Lemurian Star_ ," Rumlow began, bringing up a couple of pictures of the vessel. "It was sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago."

"Any demands?" Steve questioned.

"A billion and a half," Rumlow replied.

"Why so much?" Hermione asked, looking surprised.

"Because it's S.H.I.E.L.D's," he explained.

Steve glanced at the others with a look of frustrated comprehension. "So it's _not_ off course, it's trespassing."

"I'm sure they have a good reason," Natasha replied coolly, not at all fazed.

"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor," Steve pointed out.

"Hey, if you want to sit this one out, I'm sure that Hermione and I are perfectly capable of completing this assignment by ourselves," Natasha responded teasingly.

"How many pirates?" Hermione asked, refocusing their attention to the task at hand.

"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy," Rumlow replied, bringing up a photo on the monitor. "Georges Batroc. Ex-TGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's 'red notice'. Before the French demobilised him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."

"Hostages?" Steve enquired, a plan beginning to form in his mind.

Rumlow tapped the monitor again, bringing up the details of the S.H.I.E.L.D workers. "Uh, mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell. They're in the galley."

Steve frowned. "What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship?" he muttered, but dismissed it as unimportant for the time being. He opened his mouth to start giving orders but then he glanced uncertainly at Hermione. "Do you want me to take the lead?"

"You're the one with the medically-advanced military brain, _Captain_ ," she pointed out simply.

"But you know what you're capable of far better than I do," he argued and Natasha let out a noisy sigh.

"Just give the orders, Rogers," she said impatiently.

After an affirming nod from Hermione, he said, "All right, Hermione, you and I will sweep the deck and take out any mercenaries we find. Then I'll locate Batroc. Nat, you kill the engines and wait for further instructions. Hermione, Rumlow, you sweep below, find the hostages. When the ship's secure, we'll get them to the life pods and get them out."

The three of them nodded at his instructions and they all spent a couple of minutes finalising their equipment. Steve sidled up next to Hermione while Natasha and Rumlow were discussing the ship's schematics. "Thoughts?" he whispered.

She shook her head, looking uncertain. "It doesn't make any sense," she replied lowly. "No offence, Steve, but I could easily do this mission on my own. I can't see any reason why Fury wants you and Nat along for the ride too."

"Because he's covering his back," Steve supplied grimly. "He can't afford for it to be known that a S.H.I.E.L.D ship has been hijacked doing something it doubtless shouldn't be."

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe," she agreed hesitantly and then shook her head. "I'm probably reading too much into it. Let's just take this opportunity to show Fury how professional we can be working together then he might team us up more."

"If you think you can take out twenty-five top mercs single-handed, I'm not sure what use you'd have for me on future ops!" he responded truthfully.

"I'm sure I'd find something for you to do," she said lightly, her eyes bright despite the gloom of the jet. "Maybe _you_ could get the coffee next time."

"Sounds fair," he agreed. Despite their promise to act with professionalism, he still found his hand seeking out hers. "Just… Don't get complacent on me – this is still a dangerous op."

Hermione surveyed him impassively for a moment. "I'm not sure whether I'm insulted that you think I might carelessly endanger the lives of our team and the hostages, or if I'm touched that you're concerned for me."

"The second one?" he suggested hopefully, aware that he'd made one of his classic slip-ups.

"Hmmm," she hummed, still not looking particularly impressed. "You're lucky I've got my heart set on marrying you in less than two weeks."

A jolt of nervous excitement raced through his body, just as it did each time he realised how close their wedding day was. In truth, he and Hermione were actually having two wedding ceremonies – one with her magical friends in the UK and another in the States with their friends and select colleagues from S.H.I.E.L.D. One of the first things that had been established when he and Hermione had started planning the wedding was the necessity for the two parts of her life to be kept absolutely separate. Ever since he had learned the truth about witches and wizards, Hermione had been drilling into him how she could be sent to magical prison for the rest of her life if anyone else found out that she wasn't that unique. So it wasn't worth putting Tony Stark and Arthur Weasley in the same room just to make things less complicated for themselves. Her parents would be attending the UK-based wedding because Hermione didn't want them to know about the dangerous line of work she undertook on the other side of the Atlantic (or for her lie about her sorcery stemming from the line of females in her family to be unravelled when everyone saw that her mother was completely non-magical).

Both ceremonies would be rather small affairs as neither he nor Hermione wanted to attract a lot of attention to themselves. Hermione had been very busy over the last few months organising the simultaneous weddings and he'd had no idea how many hundreds of little decisions needed to be made to make the days run as they wanted. Two large, elaborate wedding charts were displayed and constantly monitored in her apartment and Steve did his best to avoid going anywhere near them. He didn't tell Hermione (because he knew she wouldn't appreciate hearing it) but as long as the end of their weddings resulted in him vowed in front of the eyes of God to be Hermione's husband for the rest of his life, he would be more than happy.

"And speaking of our wedding," Hermione added, "stop antagonising Natasha. I'm sure I can still convince her to be a bridesmaid."

"Not going to happen, Granger," Natasha called from the other side of the jet as she fiddled with her earpiece.

A few minutes later, Rumlow announced that they were coming up on the drop zone and Steve pressed the button to open the back of the jet. Hermione exchanged her traditional, good luck fist bump with Brock, before disillusioning herself and walking to the edge of the ramp with Steve.

"See you two down there!" she yelled over the noise of the wind as Brock and Natasha rechecked their parachutes for the last time. She squeezed Steve's hand for a moment to let him know she was ready and they jumped out of the jet.

Hermione let herself freefall until she emerged beneath the clouds. She spotted the ship below them and let gravity take her a bit closer before using her flight-apparation to get onto the main deck. Quickly, she flew around the level, stunning every pirate she came across. All of them hit the floor before they knew anything was wrong and the sound of the ocean lapping against the hull of the boat was enough to mask any noise they made as they fell. She looped round the outer parts of the ship twice more to check for any mercenaries she might have missed and only just managed to stop herself from stunning Steve as he appeared on the deck after his brief dip in the ocean.

Hermione came to a stop a few feet away from him while he peered down at one of the pirates she'd left immobile on the floor. "Deck cleared and no sign of Batroc," she said behind him. He turned, forgetting that he couldn't see her properly. "I thought about leaving you a pirate or two so you wouldn't feel left out, but we wouldn't want me to get complacent, would we?" she teased. Steve silently cursed his stupid mouth – he should've known he hadn't heard the last of that remark. "I'll rendezvous with Brock and then let you know when I'm in position to free the hostages," she said calmly.

"Agreed," he replied, though he had no clue whether she was still there to hear him. "Main deck clear," Steve said into his radio so both Rumlow and Natasha could hear him. "Proceed as planned."

The others confirmed the orders in his ear as they parachuted down to the boat. Steve stealthily made his way to the control room, expecting this to be Batroc's location. He got as close to the room as he could without giving away his position and launched a listening device at the window. Then he pulled back to a more secluded part of the ship to await updates from the rest of his team.

Hermione, meanwhile, was using her x-ray potion to determine the number of pirates guarding the hostages in the galley. There were plenty of obstructions on the other side of the locked, thick door to make it difficult to tell for sure. Brock stood next to her, armed and prepared in case they should be unexpectedly interrupted. They could hear a rather agitated voice coming from the galley and Hermione's French was good enough to know that this particular pirate was very keen on shooting one of the hostages. The forcefulness of his tone rushed Hermione more than she would've liked.

"Targets acquired," she whispered to Steve.

There was a sudden bang on the door that separated them from the galley and a shout of, " _Hey!_ " in the rough voice of the angry pirate. Hermione looked at Brock in alarm as the man continued to talk through the door to the mercenary he believed to be on the other side. _"Trouver Batroc. Si je ne rien entendu en deux minutes, je commence à les tuer_!"

Before the pirate had even said three words, Brock signalled and mouthed for her to go – they couldn't afford to let the pirates know they weren't alone. Hermione cancelled the x-ray potion and apparated to the galley, immediately taking flight. She stunned the other pirates so quickly that the first hadn't even hit the ground before they had each been hit by the red spell.

The angry pirate hadn't heard the commotion as he'd been banging on the door to try and get a response from the other side. Hermione came to a stop behind him and stunned him in the back. She leant over his prone figure to rap smartly on the door to Brock. "All clear here," she called. "Pass it on to Steve."

Walking back towards the somewhat surprised hostages, she undid the disillusionment charm to reassure them that they were in safe hands but also pulled her hood lower over her face. "Until we can be sure the ship is clear of hostiles, it will be far safer to leave you in here," she explained clearly and calmly. "I'll take these men with me and add some protective spells of my own to ensure that none of the others will be able to come back in." She pointed her wand at the plastic cord that was tied around the nearest hostage's ankles and spelled it apart, doing the same with the one around his wrists. "Help each other," she instructed, handing down a couple of kitchen knives from the shelf. "Be ready to leave when I get back."

While Hermione summoned the unconscious pirates into a lumpy pile, the hostages busied themselves by cutting each other free.

"Engine room secure," Natasha's voice spoke in her ear.

"Status update, Hermione," Steve ordered.

She grabbed a shoe from one of the pirates and transformed it into a portkey. "I'm just sending a bunch of mercenaries to the S.H.I.E.L.D base as agreed," she replied, making sure that each of the pirates was attached to a part of the shoe. She initiated the spell and watched as they disappeared in a burst of light. "The hostages are all accounted for and will be ready to move when given the order."

"Good," Steve replied. "I'm going to take out Batroc; you three check the lower decks for remaining hostiles so we can extract the hostages."

Hermione apparated back to Brock. "You ready to go?" he asked.

"I just need to lock them in," she answered, performing a couple of warding spells. She doubted that any of the pirates would come back here because they were far more likely to try and save their own skins, but she wasn't about to put the hostages' lives at risk.

She nodded at Brock to show that she was ready. "Romanoff, you finish sweeping your level," he instructed, talking into his radio. "I'll take this one and Granger the deck above." He paused and then frowned. "No response," he muttered.

Hermione tried to contact Natasha on her own radio but had the same response. "I'll cover her floor as well," she suggested, "and meet you up top."

He nodded his agreement and they went their separate ways; Hermione flying quickly between the decks for a sight of mercenaries or Natasha. She completed her sweep of the engine deck first and found plenty of unmoving figures, none of which were Natasha.

"Batroc's on the move," Steve warned in her ear. "Confirm the hostages are secure."

"Confirmed," she replied, confident that not even the muscular Batroc could bypass her wards. "But we've lost contact with Natasha. There's no sign of her in the engine room."

Starting to feel jumpy, Hermione flew up two floors to carry out her final sweeps. She only came across a couple of anxious mercenaries and swiftly stunned them before coming to a rest high up on the main deck. She sensed movement out of the corner of her eye and turned, seeing Steve fighting with Batroc below her. She could see that Batroc was extremely skilled at hand-to-hand combat but he was still no match for Steve.

In a pause in their fight, Batroc spoke to him. Hermione couldn't hear what he said but she gaped in astonishment when Steve placed his shield on his back and threw his helmet to the side. What the hell was he playing at?!

They resumed their battle as Hermione silently seethed above them about Steve's hypocrisy. Admittedly, it wasn't even a closer affair this time, with Steve clearly still having the upper hand but it was more the principle of the matter. Steve knocked Batroc to the floor with an impressive somersault kick and then rushed the pirate through a metal door when he'd staggered to his feet.

Hermione apparated down to ground level in order to rendezvous with Brock. He appeared on the stairs below her a minute later. "I took out two mercs, but there was no sign of Romanoff," he said as he climbed.

Hermione opened her mouth, intending to reply the same, but the sound of an explosion not too far away cut her off. She ran towards the sound, wand raised. As she turned a corner, her heart leapt into her mouth because large flames were flickering in the doorway that Steve and Batroc had just knocked down.

"Steve?" she called tentatively into her radio.

She didn't hear whether he replied or not because an immensely powerful blow to her neck dropped her to the floor.

* * *

The flight back to DC was not a pleasant one.

Steve had been cross enough with Natasha for potentially jeopardising the mission by sneaking off to download S.H.I.E.L.D Intel to a flash drive _before_ he found out that Batroc had taken out Hermione. His mood had not been improved by Rumlow stating that she almost certainly would have died had the hand that she'd held up to communicate on the radio not intercepted Batroc's blow. Rumlow had seen the whole thing from a few yards away as he, too, had hurried to the scene of the explosion. Brock had gone off in pursuit of Batroc and had managed to fire a couple of desperate shots at him but, unfortunately, he'd been unable to prevent the mercenary from getting away.

The guilty and concerned look on Natasha's face was not enough to cool Steve's anger as they waited for Hermione to regain consciousness. There was little else they _could_ do for the time being, seeing as Hermione had magically sealed the hostages into the galley. He sent Rumlow off to relieve the various unconscious pirates of their weapons and make sure they were restrained should they happen to wake before they could be moved.

"Think you can manage the same without carrying out another secret side-mission?" he asked Natasha bitingly. The look in her eyes conveyed that she very much wanted to respond to his hostility but, uncharacteristically, she held her tongue.

Left alone with the unconscious Hermione, Steve realised that his ire truly lay with Fury for keeping Natasha's additional orders from the rest of the team. Secrecy like that was one of the reasons he wasn't overly fond of working with S.H.I.E.L.D. – especially when it put others at risk.

Hermione eventually stirred a few minutes later (much to Steve's relief), understandably groggy and in some pain due to the hand that had plainly been broken from its impact with Batroc's fist. Unfortunately, it was also the hand that she normally held her wand in, which made her task to fix it and summon appropriate potions from the pocket of her cape slightly awkward. Steve helped her the best he could, informing her of Natasha's duplicity as he unstoppered vials and applied anti-bruise salves.

"It's not her fault I got hurt," Hermione mumbled, wincing when she had to move her neck slightly.

"Isn't it?" he replied disbelievingly.

"I should've reapplied the disillusionment charm when I knew that Batroc was still at large," she pointed out croakily. "Which is ironic considering I was mad at _you_ for being reckless in your fight with him."

Steve paused at the accusatory tone in her voice and then frowned when he realised that she was right – at least in terms of them being complacent. "But we should still know all the details of the mission; Nat shouldn't have kept that from us."

"She was just following orders," Hermione pointed out, giving the wand a few practice flicks in her unfamiliar hand.

"You wouldn't be saying that if it was one of the hostages who'd ended up hurt," he argued.

"Probably not," she sighed.

Silence settled between them for a few seconds and an uneasy feeling grew in Steve's stomach. "Would _you_ have kept it from me?" he asked her.

Hermione glanced up at him. "If I'd been explicitly ordered to, yes."

Steve couldn't deny that he was hurt by her admission. "I see," he said lowly. "You would have lied to me."

"Don't be so dramatic," Hermione grumbled. "Not everything is black and white, Steve. I assume that Fury had a very good reason for keeping Natasha's extra detail a secret from us. And it wouldn't have been a lie, just an omission. They're different."

"Not in my book," he retorted, shaking his head. "I can't believe you would have deceived me like that; honesty has always been at the core of who we are to each other."

"You're mixing personal with professional," she warned.

"Yeah, I forgot that lying is an everyday part of your job."

" _Of_ _course it is!_ " she snapped. "And you are perfectly aware how much I _loathe_ all the _necessary_ deceptions in my life."

They gazed heatedly at each other for a moment until the sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention to the return of Rumlow and Natasha.

The hostages had soon been released from the galley after Hermione insisted to her colleagues that she was fine. Regardless of what she said, Steve still wanted to complete the mission as quickly as possible so she could be seen to.

And so, with Natasha's guilt over Hermione's run in with Batroc (despite Hermione's reassurances that she wasn't responsible), Steve's anger over Fury and Natasha's deception, and Hermione and Steve's frustration with each other, barely a word was spoken on the journey back to the Triskelion.

As soon as the jet touched down in the hangar they had only departed from a few hours previously, Steve lowered the ramp and made his way to Fury's office without a backwards glance at Natasha. Hermione had been coerced into apparating to the medical department as soon as the quinjet had brought them close enough and Steve intended to go see her after he'd paid a visit to Fury.

"You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?" he called as he entered the Director's office.

"I didn't lie," Fury replied calmly, continuing to gaze out of the large office windows as he reclined in his chair with his back turned. "Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours."

"Which _you_ didn't feel obliged to share," Steve said heatedly.

"I'm not _obliged_ to do anything."

"The hostages' lives were put in danger," Steve pointed out, getting irked by the fact that Fury still hadn't turned around to look at him. "Hermione nearly _died_ , Nick."

That finally got a reaction. "You and I both know that _never_ should have happened regardless of Agent Romanoff's mission," Fury said lowly, sitting up straight in his chair and giving Steve a sharp look. "I sent the Sorceress and the greatest soldier in history to make sure those hostages were safe."

"Soldiers _trust_ each other," Steve argued. "That's what makes it an army, not a bunch of guys running around, shooting guns."

Fury stood abruptly, placing his hands on the desk in front of him. "Last time _I_ trusted someone I lost an eye." He paused and softened his tone. "Look, I didn't want you or Agent Granger doing something neither of you were comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything."

"I can't lead a mission when the people I'm leading have missions of their own," Steve maintained, refusing to back down.

"It's called compartmentalization," Fury justified. "Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all."

"Except you," Steve pointed out.

Fury regarded him for a moment. "And _you're_ not keeping important secrets from _me_?"

Steve's brow creased. "What are you talking about?"

"Magic."

Steve pressed his lips together, unable to deny the accusation.

"I know Granger's told you more than she's ever let slip to me," Fury elaborated. "And that's some pretty hot intel you're sitting on. It could make a big difference to lives around the world."

"That's different," Steve insisted. "Those aren't my secrets to share."

"Well, you're wrong about me," Fury said after staring at him again. "Unlike you and Granger, I _do_ share. I'm nice like that."

Fury typed something into the screen on his desk and then beckoned for Steve to follow him. As they walked into the elevator, Fury instructed it to take them down to Medical. When the doors reopened a few seconds later, Hermione stood expectantly on the other side.

"Get in," Fury instructed. " _Insight Bay_ ," he called to the elevator.

"Captain Rogers and Agent Granger do not have clearance for Project Insight," the machine replied.

"Director override: Fury, Nicholas J," he said.

"Confirmed."

The elevator resumed its descent and Hermione looked curiously between the two men. "Project Insight?" she inquired.

"You'll see," Fury replied brusquely.

Hermione nodded and chewed her lip nervously. "I'm sorry I screwed up this morning, sir," she said contritely. "It won't happen again."

"You don't have to apologise," Steve cut in. "It's as much his fault as anyone else's."

Hermione shot him an exasperated look. "Steve, _drop it_. I'm taking responsibility for my own actions. I don't need you to leap in and defend me!"

"I'm not doing it because you're my fiancée," he insisted. "I'd do the same for any member of my team."

"Will you two shut the hell up," Fury growled, glaring at them both. "Keep your domestics out of the workplace."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said instinctively. "Sorry, sir."

Steve frowned. He wished she wouldn't knuckle under to authority so easily.

The interior of the elevator grew darker and Steve realised that was because they had gone subterranean. A moment later, Hermione gasped, her eyes wide as she looked out of the glass windows. Steve turned to see what had amazed her so and quickly saw – they weren't exactly hard to miss. Three helicarriers, similar to the one they had been aboard when taking on Loki, sat next to each other in a huge landing bay.

Fury chuckled at their stunned silence.

"This is Project Insight," he said, once they had vacated the elevator and started a tour of the huge vessels that loomed above them, loaded with at least a dozen quinjets each. "Three next generation helicarriers, synced to a network of targeting satellites."

"Launched from the _Lemurian Star_ ," Steve added connecting the dots.

"Once we get them in the air, they never need to come down," Fury told them, "continuous suborbital flight, courtesy of our new repulsor engines."

"Tony?" Hermione questioned.

"Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up-close look at our old turbines," Fury replied, motioning for them to ascend some stairs to get a closer view. "These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute," he said, pointing out the numerous firearms that were stationed all over the helicarriers. "The satellites can read a terrorist's DNA before he steps outside his spyhole. We're going to neutralise a lot of threats before they even happen."

"I thought the punishment usually came after the crime," Steve commented, aware that Hermione had gone very still next to him.

"This is wrong," she said lowly.

"I've got no reason to think that it will impact on the lives of those like you," Fury said quietly, even though there was no chance of them being overheard.

Hermione sent him a hard look. "You think _that's_ what I'm worried about?" she asked sharply and then shook her head. "Morally, this goes against _everything_ that I stand for. When you asked me to join S.H.I.E.L.D you said that I could save lives and that's what I thought we did here. You send me _into_ those spyholes to apprehend those people humanely."

"But you're not enough," Fury argued. "You're not invincible as this morning clearly showed. So until you convince more people like yourself to step out of the shadows, we will protect the people of the world as we see fit."

"Who's 'we'?" Steve asked.

"After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis," Fury explained. "For once, we're way ahead of the curve."

"By holding a gun to everyone on Earth and calling it protection," Steve said bitterly.

"You know, I read those SSR files," Fury told him. "Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.

"Yeah, we compromised," Steve answered honestly. "Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well, but we _did it_ so that people could be free. This isn't freedom, this is fear."

"You've kept this from me just like you did with your work with the Tesseract," Hermione accused, "because you knew I wouldn't like what you were doing."

Fury stood stiffly, drawing himself to his full height as he glared down at her. "You are a Level Seven agent and a highly valued asset to S.H.I.E.L.D but you do _not_ get to decide how we operate. S.H.I.E.L.D takes the world as it is, not as we'd like it to be."

Hermione glowered furiously back at him. "If this is what the future of S.H.I.E.L.D entails, then maybe I don't want to be a part of it anymore!" She turned abruptly and retraced her path back down to the ground level. Steve retracted his earlier thought that Hermione was so easily swayed by authority. She was extremely respectful, yes, but when someone crossed a line, she wasn't about to stand by and take it.

"It's getting damn near time for you both to get with the program," Fury stated, not looking pleased with the way the conversation had played out.

"Don't hold your breath," Steve muttered and turned to catch up with Hermione.

* * *

A/N Hoped you liked! :D


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you for all your support.

* * *

"I can't believe the next time I'll get to dance with you will be on your wedding day!" Hermione heard Peggy say excitedly to Steve as they took a gentle turn around the retirement home's common room. Hermione, too, was enjoying a dance with an enthusiastic elderly gentleman as big-band music emanated from a record player.

When Steve had started visiting Peggy regularly with Hermione just over a year ago, they had finally partaken in a dance together – something Peggy told Hermione she'd been waiting sixty years for. It hadn't taken long for the other residents to join in and request dances with both Steve and Hermione, and now it was tradition for the chairs to be cleared and the music to start whenever they came for their weekly visit.

Talking to the residents here was a breath of fresh air for Hermione compared to her work with S.H.I.E.L.D, but it also had its sombre moments whenever she learned of the passing of one of their regular dancing partners. Those occasions were as common as you'd expect in a retirement home but mostly their visits were filled with laughter and warmth, which was just what she needed after the day she'd had so far.

"Are you all ready for your big day?" Hermione's partner asked her.

"We're nearly there, thank you, Jack," she replied. "It's come around awfully quick, hasn't it?"

"Only feels like yesterday you two were first stepping out together," he agreed, struggling to lift his arm so she could spin under it. "You're going to be bringing little ones round to visit before you know it!" He grinned toothily at her and she laughed.

"Oh, I think that's quite a few years away yet," she replied but her stomach wavered nervously when she realised her future was much more uncertain than it had been a couple of hours ago. The song ended and there were moans of disappointment as the carers wheeled in beverages to signal that dancing time was over.

Hermione kissed Jack on the cheek and escorted him over to one of the comfy chairs to enjoy a cup of tea and a slice of cake. Steve and Hermione helped serve the hot liquid, warmly accepting the well wishes that were offered for their wedding day. She sat in one of the vacant seats and listened as the other occupants of the table reminisced about their own marriages.

At the end of the tea, Hermione and Steve were very much surprised by the gift of a large card signed by the carers and residents. One of Steve's most ardent dancing fans handed Hermione a small, white box.

"We've made you your 'something blue', my dear," she said, a glint in her eye.

Hermione opened the box curiously, and her eyes widened in shock at the beautiful, navy blue, lace garter that lay inside. The occupants of the room laughed at her surprised expression and glowing cheeks. Steve leant forwards to look inside and Hermione snapped the box shut before he could get a peek.

"Don't worry, son, you'll see it at some point on your wedding day!" one of the male residents shouted, chortling.

Hermione embarrassedly thanked them all for the gifts and then Peggy steered Hermione and Steve back to her room so they could have a private conversation.

"What's the matter with you two today?" she asked once her door had been closed. Hermione shared a surprised glance with Steve. As far as she could tell, they had not done or said anything that would give away their unhappiness with Fury's unveiling of Project Insight. " _Please_ ," Peggy scoffed, slowly taking a seat in one of her armchairs. "I may be hideously old but I was a very good agent and I can still tell when people are hiding something."

"It's… _work_ ," Steve said eventually, taking a seat next to Peggy as Hermione perched on the arm of the chair.

"We can't go into details," she mumbled.

"Of course you can't," Peggy agreed firmly, a lifetime of espionage strongly held within her.

"But I'm not," Hermione began and then corrected herself, " _we're_ not sure we can stay anymore given what's in the offing," she explained the best she could.

"Anyone who's known us," Steve said sombrely, wrapping his arm around Hermione's waist, "knows that we just want to do what's right. We're just not quite sure what that is anymore. _I_ thought I could throw myself back in: follow orders, serve." He smiled wistfully. "It's just not the same."

Peggy chuckled at their gloomy demeanours. "What a dramatic pair you are," she muttered, looking at them fondly. "The world has changed so much in the last _two_ years, let alone sixty, Steve, but there's no going back. All we can do is our best," she advised, "and sometimes the best we can do is to start over."

Peggy grasped a hand of theirs each, and brought them together. "And you have each other. You must take strength from that…"

Hermione and Steve left not long after, seeing that Peggy was rather tired. Steve wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders as they walked back to his motorcycle, their earlier bickering long since forgotten.

"There's somewhere I thought we could visit before we grab some dinner," he said and then told her about meeting Sam Wilson on his run that morning and his work at the VA office. Hermione agreed, not feeling particularly hungry after the slice of cake she'd just eaten.

When they arrived, they found Sam holding a talk with war veterans who were suffering with Post-traumatic stress disorder. They slid into a couple of seats at the back of the hall and listened in. Some of the attendees' struggles were heart-breaking and a couple of the things they mentioned about coping with their harrowing experiences resonated with Hermione. She knew she was very fortunate that her suffering was not as severe as those around her; the biggest loss she'd faced in her service with S.H.I.E.L.D was Coulson, but he'd miraculously returned from the dead! The nightmares she suffered dealt more with the close shaves she'd had or past enemies returning to threaten once again. It was different for Steve, though. He'd been through a truly horrific conflict and witnessed many deaths. Her own wizarding war had been horrifying enough but the scale of the suffering of the Second World War was incomprehensible to her. And, what was more, Steve had lost his best friend during the fighting. He rarely spoke of Sergeant James 'Bucky' Barnes but Hermione had read all about him long before she and Steve had become a couple and she knew that his friend's death still cut him deeply.

When the meeting was finished, they waited for the rest of the attendees to leave before approaching Sam.

"Look who it is," he said. "The running man."

Steve nodded in greeting. "This is my fiancée, Hermione."

"It's nice to meet you," she said politely, shaking his hand. "You do a really good job up there," she added, tilting her head to where he led the counselling session.

"Yeah, it was pretty intense," Steve agreed.

"Yeah, we all got the same problems," Sam said heavily, "guilt, regret."

"Did you lose someone?" Steve asked.

"My wingman," Sam replied, nodding, "Riley, flying a night mission; standard PJ, rescue op. Nothing we hadn't done a thousand times before until an RPG knocked Riley's dumb ass out the sky. Nothing I could do," he said bitterly, "it's like I was up there just to watch."

"That's awful," Hermione said quietly and Steve voiced his sympathies.

"After that, I had a _really_ hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know," Sam explained.

"But you're happy now, back in the world?" Steve asked.

"Hey, the number of people giving me orders," Sam replied, pretending to look around for someone, "is down to about zero." He grinned. "So, _hell_ , yeah." He looked at Hermione and Steve questioningly. "But you two are thinking about getting out?"

They shared an uncertain glance. "Possibly," Hermione muttered and Steve shook his head slightly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "To be honest, I don't know what I would do with myself if I did."

"Ultimate fighting?" Sam jokingly suggested and they all chuckled. "Just a great idea off the top of my head. Seriously though, you could do _whatever_ you want to do," he pointed out. "What makes you happy? Apart from your lovely fiancée, of course," he added quickly with a grin at Hermione, who smiled and nodded approvingly.

Steve, however, seemed pretty flummoxed by the question. "I don't know," he answered truthfully.

"Well, that's where you both need to start," Sam suggested. "But it's best not to rush to any serious decisions. It seems like you've got a lot going on in your lives already with the wedding and all. You guys got a date set?"

"Twelve days," Hermione replied, with the usual flutter of nervous excitement.

Sam blinked in surprise. "Whoa, OK, I might have _no_ experience when it comes to weddings but maybe you'd better focus on that for the moment," he advised. "Enjoy your big day and the honeymoon if you guys are having one. Things might be a little clearer when you get back."

Hermione and Steve thanked him for his guidance and Sam told them they were welcome to come and visit any time.

It might have been the final day of September, but the weather was still warm enough for them to spend the evening outside. Steve parked the motorcycle not far from Franklin Square and they picked up some takeout to eat in the glow of the setting sun. They sat with their backs against one of the trees and watched the world go by as they ate. Nobody paid them any attention but Hermione discretely cast a couple of wards to stop them from being overheard.

"Your race against Nat feels a long time ago now," Steve muttered, reflecting on the day's events as he finished off his dinner.

"Well, the only good thing about the _Lemurian Star_ debacle is that I've managed to use Natasha's silly guilt over Batroc to convince her to at least _try on_ a bridesmaid dress tomorrow," Hermione said, a small smile hovering over her lips.

"I thought you said it wasn't her fault," Steve accused.

"It _wasn't_ ," Hermione agreed. "I just really want her to be a bridesmaid! I don't want to stand up there alone and Pepper insists she's too old, which is nonsense. You've got Tony, Clint and Bruce all acting as groomsmen _and_ Thor, too, if he can get away from Asgard." She sighed. "Why do most of our friends this side of the Atlantic have to be male?" she grumbled.

"Maybe you should have asked some of the ladies at the retirement home?" he teased and Hermione threw a twig at him.

"Even at the London wedding you've got Harry as a groomsman for you and he's _my_ friend!" Hermione reminded him, put out.

"Yes, but that's because you didn't want me to look like a…" he frowned. "What was the phrase again?"

"Billy-no-mates," she supplied, nodding her head as she recalled the conversation. "Yes, fine. But let's just hope Natasha doesn't back out."

Silence settled between them as their minds inevitably turned to Project Insight and its personal implications.

"If S.H.I.E.L.D are going to use those machines to pre-emptively kill, I can't stay there, Steve," Hermione said lowly. "Using the satellites to track people is one thing; it's disturbingly invasive, yes, but I think, eventually, I could live with it. But when you factor in those guns?" She shook her head, a sorrow forming in her chest. "That's not something I would ever want to be associated with." She pushed around the remains of her dinner with the plastic fork, wishing she hadn't eaten so much of it as she felt quite sick.

"Do you think Fury is just going to let you walk away?" Steve asked. "You're working with S.H.I.E.L.D almost every day. He won't want to lose you."

" _Or_ _you_ ," she pointed out.

Steve shook his head. "I'm called in barely a fifth as much as you."

"But… you don't want to stay, do you?" Hermione asked.

"If you go, _I_ go," he promised resolutely. "If you stay – "

"I don't think I can!" Hermione interrupted.

"We'll go into work tomorrow and talk to Nick," Steve said calmly. "It's like Sam said, we don't want to rush into a big decision, especially when those Helicarriers aren't even in the air yet."

Hermione nodded, shifting her position so she could lean against his chest and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "But what would we do if we left?" she wondered, unable to stop her mind from exploring their potential future. "I've already tried the civilian life – I'm not sure I could go back to working in an office again."

"Maybe you could just do something more exciting, like what Harry does," Steve suggested.

"An auror?" Hermione considered the possibility. It wasn't a terrible idea but it felt so restricting after working around the world with SHIELD for nearly two and a half years.

"And don't forget _Stranger Enterprises_. I'm sure Tony would jump at the opportunity to get magically enhanced products on the shelves. He's always complaining that you don't spend enough time exploring magical possibilities with him."

That was certainly true. Every few weeks, Hermione would get a putout phone call from Tony, complaining that she didn't take her joint ownership of the company seriously. Following that, she'd book out an afternoon to spend with him and attempt to appear like she was collaborating but, as much as she cared deeply for Tony, she still didn't trust him enough to allow him to gain a more intimate, scientific understanding of her magic.

"But… we'd still be _Avengers_ , right?" Hermione asked and then frowned. "That's if the world should still need us with those helicarriers floating around."

"Look, there's nothing I want more than peace around the world," Steve said, "but freedom shouldn't be the price paid for that to be achieved. If you use fear to control people, they either find more desperate or more intelligent ways to fight back. I think there's a strong possibility we'll be needed more than ever and I'm not about to ignore that call."

Hermione nodded, sharing his feelings. She knew she wasn't solely responsible for protecting the innocent people of this planet but she'd still feel guilty if she left her job at S.H.I.E.L.D.

She rubbed a tired hand over her eyes, many thoughts and emotions swirling around her brain. "What I want to know," she said, a stray idea coming to the forefront of her mind, "is what the intel was that Natasha took off the _Lemurian Star_ for Fury. Her mission doesn't make sense at all."

"No, you're right," he agreed after a pause. "But, knowing those two, I doubt we'll ever find out."

In an attempt to distract themselves from their troubling thoughts, they went to the cinema to take in a film. The plan worked to a certain extent but Hermione often had to remind herself to focus on the events on the big screen instead of in her head.

As they had spent the previous night at Hermione's, Steve drove them back to his place (they'd been switching between apartments for the last few weeks in preparation for living together). Nearing his front door, they stilled at the same moment, hearing music emanating from his apartment.

Hermione sent Steve a quizzical look. "Did you leave your record player on?"

He shook his head with a frown. "No."

Hermione discreetly removed her wand from its holder and gripped the handle tightly. No intruder would be stupid enough to leave music playing unless they _wanted_ you to know that something was amiss. And if that was the case, what was the warning about?

"I'm going to take my x-ray potion," Hermione muttered, summoning the vial from her pocket and consuming the contents. She activated it, looking carefully for signs of anything out of the ordinary but this wasn't easy with the adjacent apartment partly impeding her search.

"Anything?" Steve asked.

"Nothing that I can see yet," she replied. "I need a new view point – I can't see the record player from here."

"The window ledge by the kitchen?" he suggested. Hermione nodded and disillusioned them, before apparating them a few feet away. From this angle, she saw quite quickly what was out of place. "Human figure lying on your couch," she whispered. "Looks to be male with a small number of weapons concealed about his person."

"Doesn't sound exactly combat ready," Steve muttered. "Is he alive?"

"Yes."

"All right, let's go in," he suggested. Hermione cancelled the potion and apparated them directly inside, just out of sight of the intruder. Steve grabbed a hold of his shield, which was on the floor nearby, and Hermione raised her wand ready. It was very dark inside but she carefully took a step forwards, her eyes moving to the figure slumped on the couch. It was Fury.

Hermione lowered her wand with a frown.

"I don't remember giving you a key," Steve said, not sounding particularly happy with his guest.

Fury sat up straighter with a groan. "Do you honestly think I'd need one?" His eye peered around the room for Steve so Hermione undid their camouflage charms.

"You won't be able to break in like this when we've got our own home," Hermione reminded him, referring to the wards she'd have in place. It'd taken her a long time to figure out how to let the protective spells accept Steve as well, but any other muggles would find it impossible to enter their new apartment without permission.

"My wife kicked me out," Fury told them lowly.

Hermione's mouth opened a little in surprise.

"I didn't know you were married," Steve said, echoing her thoughts.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," Fury replied sarcastically with a glance at her.

"Come on, Nick, this isn't about Hermione," Steve muttered, walking forward to turn on a light. The glow from the lamp revealed a number of cuts and bruises on Fury's face. He held up a warning hand at their twin looks of surprised concern and turned the lamp off again. He typed something into his phone and held it up for them to see: _EARS EVERYWHERE._

Hermione glanced at Steve with unease.

"I'm sorry to have to do this," Fury continued, his tone of voice normal, "but I had no place else to crash." He typed into the phone again and Hermione felt a jolt of alarm at what she saw: _SHIELD COMPROMISED._

"Who else knows about your wife?" Steve asked.

Fury got to his feet with another small groan. _YOU AND ME_."Just my friends."

" _Friends_?" Hermione repeated. "Is that what we are?"

"That's up to you two."

A gunshot suddenly smashed through the window, impacting into Fury's chest. Hermione reacted instinctively and erected a shield to protect them all. The spell wasn't quick enough to stop the second shot, but the third was deflected back into the wall, chips of debris flying everywhere.

Steve quickly dragged Fury's body a few feet away, both he and Hermione looking out for a sign of the shooter. Hermione bent over Fury in disbelief at the events of the last few seconds, ready to cast her diagnosis spell and praying that she would be able to save him. Fury thrust a hand towards them, a flash drive lying in his bloodied palm as he gasped beneath them.

"Don't trust anyone," he choked out urgently. With half a glance at Steve, Hermione picked up the drive and secreted it into her pocket.

"Can you save him?" Steve asked her quickly.

"I think so," she answered cautiously, beginning her diagnosis spell. "Is the shooter still there?"

Steve edged to the window and peered out. "Yes."

" _Go_ ," she instructed, eager for the perpetrator to be brought to justice. Steve nodded curtly at her and smashed straight through the window in pursuit. Hermione jumped when Fury grabbed her wrist, causing her spell to fail. He pulled her closer so that her ear was barely an inch from his mouth.

"Get rid of the ears," he whispered, the serious look in his eye convincing her to follow his order before starting to heal him. She sent her strongest technology-disruption spell to put everything in a hundred feet radius out of action.

"It's done," she told him.

"Good," he panted. "Now you have to let me die."

* * *

Steve watched the surgeons operating on Fury on the other side of glass with a faint feeling of disbelief. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D had always been such an immovable figure that it felt like death, too, would be unable to ever get a hold on him.

Hermione was tucked into Steve's side, her eyes red rimmed and her cheeks wet. Upon discovering that Nick's injuries were greater than she'd first suspected, Hermione had transported him straight to the hospital to give him the best possible chance of survival.

Natasha appeared next to them, looking anxiously through the glass.

"Is he gonna make it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied honestly.

"Tell me about the shooter," Natasha requested.

Steve felt a strong hint of failure when he recalled the man he'd been unable to apprehend. "He's fast and strong," he told her. "He had a metal arm."

Agent Hill joined them to stare through the glass too.

"Ballistics?" Natasha asked her voice almost emotionless.

"Two slugs," Hill replied. "No rifling, completely untraceable."

"Soviet made," Natasha stated.

Hill glanced at her in surprise. "Yeah."

"He's dropping," one of the doctors warned, his voice travelling through the glass. There was a flurry of movement from the surgeons as they brought the defibrillator over. Steve could see that the machine that monitored Fury's heartbeats was just showing a straight line.

"Don't do this to me, Nick," Natasha muttered as Hermione started trembling in Steve's embrace.

After two shocks with the defibrillator, there was still no pulse. Steve stared at the machine, waiting for just the smallest flicker to show that Fury's heart had started beating again.

Hermione shuddered, withdrew herself from his touch and ran out of the door. Steve half turned, wondering whether he should follow her. He looked back to the operating table and saw the doctors dejectedly removing their gloves. There had been no last second miracle. Nick Fury was dead.

Waiting at the hospital was an uncomfortable affair but Steve knew that they couldn't just leave; they had to pay their respects to Nick.

Hermione reappeared a few minutes later looking extremely pale. Steve tried to offer her comfort both physically and with words but she grew tense and shied away whenever he approached her. He could only assume that she carried guilt for being unable to treat Fury herself. He tried to voice that this wasn't the case but she interrupted him, saying that she couldn't bear it, and moved to the other end of the room, tears once more in her eyes.

His mind strayed to the flash drive that Fury had given them. It appeared that whatever was on that drive had cost Fury his life. If anyone found out that it was in Hermione's pocket, her life would be in serious danger. They couldn't talk about it here, of course; Fury had warned them not to trust anyone and that wasn't an order that Steve was about to take lightly.

Eventually, they were allowed in to see Nick's body. Steve lingered at the back of the room, not wanting to intrude on Natasha or Hermione's grief. Natasha stood almost motionless next to the body which was covered in a simple, white sheet from the chest down. Hermione gently laid a hand on Nick's bare shoulder and then turned to leave the room briskly.

A couple of minutes later, Hill appeared at Steve's side. "We need to take him," she said quietly, struggling to keep her emotions in check.

Steve walked up to Natasha and called her name softly. She didn't move at first but then placed her hand tenderly on the crown of Fury's head, before following Hermione's lead out of the door. Steve followed her into the corridor where Hermione was leaning against the wall, waiting for them. "Natasha," he said to get her to stop.

She turned around, looking accusingly at them both.

"Why was Fury in your apartment?" she asked.

Steve sighed and shook his head, remembering Fury's warning. "I don't know," he lied.

"Granger, Cap," Rumlow called over Steve's shoulder, interrupting the conversation. "They want you back at S.H.I.E.L.D."

Hermione pushed herself away from the wall and Steve twisted his body to reply, "Yeah, just give me a second."

"They want you _now_ ," Rumlow said authoritatively, surprising the others with his curt tone.

"OK," Steve said, wondering why Rumlow was being so forceful. The STRIKE commander walked back to the rest of his unit and Steve turned again to Natasha.

"Have you got anything to add?" she asked Hermione.

"Have _you_?" Hermione countered.

Natasha looked between them, almost amused. "You're both terrible liars," she muttered, before walking off again.

Thinking of the flash drive, Steve asked Hermione without looking at her, "Have you still got it?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"We can't take it back to S.H.I.E.L.D," he pointed out.

Hermione shook her head. "They'll never find it; it's in plain sight right now and you haven't spotted it." She started walking back to Rumlow and Steve stared after her in surprise. Aware that eyes would be on him, he quickly schooled his features into something less suspicious and followed Hermione along the corridor.

On the advice of Rumlow, they suited up on their arrival at the Triskelion in case any leads in tracking Fury's killer emerged, and then they were instructed to take the elevator to the top floor.

"Have you ever been that high?" Steve asked her as the doors slid shut but she shook her head. "Me neither." Steve knew that the top floors of the Triskelion held the offices of the Secretary to the World Security Council, Alexander Pierce. The Security Council were the overseers of S.H.I.E.L.D. and it was unsurprising that Pierce might have some questions surrounding Fury's death.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, aware that with S.H.I.E.L.D. supposedly compromised, someone could be constantly monitoring them. This didn't stop Steve staring at various parts of Hermione's body to try and spot the flash drive. He couldn't ask her, but he assumed that she'd transferred it over when she changed into her Sorceress suit. It felt strange that the fact he couldn't see it gave him confidence.

Secretary Pierce was waiting to greet them when the elevator doors opened. He was a relatively old man (not that Steve was in a position to judge) but there still seemed to be a youthful energy in him as he beckoned to them both.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Granger," he welcomed, shaking hands with each in turn. "I'm Alexander Pierce."

"Sir, it's an honour," Steve replied, Hermione echoing the sentiment.

"The honour is mine," Pierce insisted, escorting them down the corridor. "My father served in the 101st, Captain and I have long since been impressed by the efforts of yourself and Agent Granger to protect the innocent of this planet."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione replied politely as they entered his office.

"It's just a pity that we should meet under such sad circumstances," Pierce commented grimly. He showed them a photograph of himself and Fury (though they both looked much younger) where it looked like Fury was getting sworn into a role. Pierce told them about his first meeting with Fury in Bogota, five years before the photo was taken; Fury had ignored Pierce's direct orders and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil which resulted in the safe rescue of hostages, including Pierce's daughter, who otherwise would certainly have died.

"So you gave him a promotion," Steve said, referring to the photograph.

"I've never had any cause to regret it," Pierce claimed, taking a seat in the chair opposite theirs. Steve and Hermione waited patiently for Pierce to get to the crux of the meeting and the Secretary sensed that they weren't in the mood for small talk. "Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?"

Steve considered the question. Fury was on the run for his life, that was apparent to them all, but why he had chosen _Steve_ 's apartment, that wasn't so clear. Despite what Fury had said the previous day, he must have had _some_ level of trust in Steve if he was willing to turn to him in his hour of need, and the same applied to Hermione too. Nick might have even wanted to go to her apartment instead if it wasn't so heavily protected against intruders. They'd never know the full truth now. "I don't know," he answered semi-truthfully.

"And you, Agent Granger, why were you there at such a late hour?" Pierce enquired.

"Oh," Hermione started in surprise, and despite the whole situation, she still managed to blush. "Steve and I are engaged to be married, sir," she replied, squirming a little under his gaze. "We, um, regularly spend the night at each other's apartment."

"I see," Pierce replied, not embarrassed at all by her answer. "And would Nick have known you'd be there?"

"He couldn't have known for sure that either of us would be there last night," she replied. "We alternate, you see. So, unless he knew that we'd both been at mine the night before, he had a fifty-fifty chance of us turning up. He'd strongly suspect us of being together though."

Pierce nodded. "Did you know the apartment was bugged?"

Steve paused. "I did," he replied, deciding there was little point to deny otherwise. "Because Nick told me."

"Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?"

Hermione tensed next to him and Steve felt a slither of doubt curl in his stomach. Pierce could tell by their expressions that they'd been unaware of Nick's surveillance.

"I want you to see something," he said, bringing a video up on a wall monitor. It showed Batroc being interrogated by a couple of agents.

"Is that live?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not-so-safe house in Algiers," Pierce replied.

"What's that got to do with Fury's death?" Hermione enquired.

"Batroc was hired anonymously to attack the Lemurian Star," Pierce explained, picking up a folder from the coffee table. "He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfers. And then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts, the last one going to a holding company who was registered to a Jacob Veech." Pierce handed the folder over to them.

"Are we supposed to know who that is?" Steve asked.

"Not likely," Pierce answered simply. "Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437."

Hermione looked from the folder, to Steve, then to Pierce. "Are you saying Fury hired the pirates?"

"Why would he do that?" Steve added.

"The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence," Pierce replied simply. "The sale went sour and that led to Nick's death."

Hermione shook her head at once. "I'm sorry, sir. I may not have known Director Fury for as long as you but I can't believe that for a moment."

"Nor me," Steve said.

Pierce surveyed them both for a moment and then nodded in agreement. "Why do you think we're talking?" He stood, Steve and Hermione following suit expectantly, but Pierce simply walked towards the large windows that dominated the corner of his office. "See, I took a seat on the council, not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to," he explained as he gazed across the river to the Capitol. "We were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, that to build a really better world, sometimes means having to tear the old one down." He turned back to look at them, his demeanour less friendly. "That makes enemies; those people that call you dirty because you have the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today, makes me really, really angry." He stared almost hostilely at them for a few seconds but they held his gaze, unmoved.

"You two were the last ones to see Nick alive," Pierce said eventually. "I don't think that's an accident and I don't think you do either, so I'm going to ask again, why was he there?"

Steve weighed up the possible responses he could give. He couldn't tell whether Alexander Pierce was a friend, foe or something in between. But if Pierce had heard the surveillance from Steve's apartment last night, he'd know what words were exchanged. "He told us not to trust anyone," he stated, letting Pierce assume that he was being wholly honest.

Pierce chewed over this response. "I wonder if that included him," he said. "Or maybe even each other," he added, glancing meaningfully between them.

Steve bristled at the accusation that there could be deceit between himself and Hermione, but he reigned his anger in. "I'm sorry," Steve said calmly. "Those were his last words."

"Nick didn't say anything else once Captain Rogers had left in pursuit of the shooter?" Pierce asked of Hermione.

She shook her head. "Director Fury was unresponsive after that point and I quickly transported him into the hands of the medical professionals who could…" Her voice faltered and she winced. She swallowed thickly and continued emotionally, her eyes a little watery. "Who I _thought_ could save him."

Pierce's stance didn't soften.

There was nothing more Steve or Hermione could safely say so Steve put a guiding hand on her back and nodded curtly at Pierce. "Excuse us," he said and they started to walk to the door they had entered only a few minutes ago.

"Rogers, Granger," Pierce called and they paused to look back at him. "Somebody murdered my friend and I'm gonna find out why. Anyone gets in my way, they're going to regret it," he warned softly. "Anyone."

So it seemed they had made an enemy out of Alexander Pierce after all. They could only hope that this was just a misunderstanding in these uncertain times because the Secretary to the World Security Council was not someone they particularly wanted to take on.

"Understood," Steve replied for them, before opening the door for Hermione to exit.

He heard her release a shaky breath next to him as they walked back towards the elevator. He wanted to offer her some reassurance but there was little he could do or say with all the invisible eyes and ears that surrounded them.

"Let's see if anything has come into Operations," Hermione suggested and Steve nodded. That was an entirely normal action for them to take; no one could possibly get suspicious with that destination.

They waited for a couple of minutes, tense and silent, for the elevator to reach them. Once the doors had slid open, Hermione instructed the computer where to take them and moved to the rear of the empty space. Steve leant against the railing, looking out towards the city without really seeing it. The smoke and daggers stuff was already weighing him down. He was just a simple soldier; this acting normal while looking over your shoulder was out of his comfort zone. Hermione rested her head against his shoulder and ran her hand soothingly along his arm as the doors began to close.

Voices approached and the doors reopened to admit some last second passengers, Hermione quickly putting a little distance between herself and Steve to maintain professionalism.

"…all STRIKE personnel on site," Rumlow said and other voices confirmed his instructions before he told the computer to take them to Forensics. "Granger, Cap," he greeted.

Steve turned and returned the address, "Rumlow."

"Hey, boss," Hermione said softly, sounding even more tired than she looked as she leant with her back against the rail.

"Evidence response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see," Rumlow informed them as the elevator finally started to descend. "You want me to get the tac-team ready?" he asked Steve.

"No, let's wait and see what it is first," he replied.

Rumlow nodded. "Right." He turned back to the agents he'd entered with and the journey continued in silence.

Steve noticed that one of the other agents was seemingly nonchalantly clutching at a weapon that was strapped to the outside of his leg. Steve shifted his gaze to see whether Hermione had noticed too but the elevator paused and she raised the hood of her cloak over her head and turned her body slightly so the new passengers wouldn't be able to see her face.

Steve glanced at the newcomers and saw that along with two more STRIKE agents, a couple of large men in suits entered. It must have been these unfamiliar agents that had forced Hermione to raise her hood for Steve knew that all the STRIKE teams knew Hermione by face already.

The black-clad agents all congregated together and Steve moved to accommodate them, only realizing a few seconds later that he had unintentionally put bodies between himself and Hermione.

Amid the other low level conversations around him, Steve still heard Rumlow say to her, "I'm sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up what happened to him."

"Thank you," came her quiet reply.

Steve kept himself tuned into their discussion but cast his gaze around at the people enclosed in the elevator with him. His eyes picked up a bead of sweat running down the face of one of the suit wearing agents, though the man was acting completely ordinary.

Unease settled in Steve's stomach. Something definitely wasn't right here. He turned his head back to Hermione to see if she'd detected the danger but with her hood covering most of her face, he suspected that she was unaware.

The doors slid open to admit three more large STRIKE agents, confirming Steve's suspicions that this journey was a set up. Steve forced himself to remain calm so that he wouldn't jump start their attack before he could warn Hermione.

The bodies in the elevator shifted again to admit the latest passengers and Steve kept himself alert of everyone's movements. When the agents acted, they'd have to be fast to stand any chance of overcoming her, and Steve knew that Rumlow was only maintaining his conversation with her to keep her distracted and unaware of the greater danger.

Steve could just see the pair of them in a gap between two agents. He knew that if he tried to get back to her, everything would kick off.

"We'll get the guy that shot him," Rumlow promised, "I know it." He held his hand out for her to fistbump, a gesture Steve had seen him do with Hermione many times before, but the feeling of dread he felt as he saw Hermione raise her fist, forced him to say lowly and urgently, " _Bao bei_!"

She half turned towards him and Rumlow pulled her back with a fistful of her cloak into the mass of STRIKE agents.

" _No_!" Steve cried desperately as the other agents attempted to restrain him and someone tried to jab at his stomach with an electric rod. Steve kicked the rod away but the men that had surrounded Hermione now came to subdue him too. As he continued to fight and struggle, Steve could see her unconscious figure slumped on the ground, Rumlow standing over her with an electric rod of his own.

"I told you that cloak would get in the way," Rumlow muttered to her and Steve's level of anger rose.

The two suited agents tried to confine his wrists with magnetic cuffs that had previously been disguised as the handles of their briefcases. Steve strained against the force of the men trying to subdue him and managed to work one of his legs free to kick some of the agents aside. In the scuffle, one cuff got knocked away and Steve was able to down three men in quick succession. He flipped the agent that was holding him from behind over his back to make the man land roughly on the floor but Rumlow kicked Steve's arm with enough force to launch it against the wall and the magnetic cuff held it in place.

Steve heaved at his arm for a couple of seconds but Rumlow came at him with the electric rods. Steve blocked the first two attacks but a third jabbed into his stomach. He growled at the pain of the shock and then knocked Rumlow aside along with the two agents that followed. Jumping up to plant his feet against the wall, Steve heaved at the cuff with all his might and was just able to prise his arm away, somersaulting backwards to land upright.

It was far easier to dispatch the remaining agents now, most of whom had already received blows in the carnage of the assault.

Steve sensed movement behind him and turned, tensing when he saw that Rumlow had Hermione's head propped against his knee, the electric rods pointing at her neck.

" _Easy_ , Cap," Rumlow warned. "She's already had a big dose; you don't wanna make me give her anymore and fry her insides." Rumlow would do it too, Steve knew that, even though Hermione considered him a friend and had invited him to their wedding next week. "I'm gonna restart the lift and we're gonna get out at the next stop without anyone else getting hurt, got it?"

Steve stayed rooted to the spot and Rumlow took his silence as confirmation of his agreement. Neither taking their eyes off the other, Rumlow inched one of his hands away from Hermione's neck in the direction of the elevator's control panel. The remaining rod crackled menacingly just below her chin.

Just as Rumlow's fingers were about to close on the button to relaunch the elevator, Steve threw himself forwards, stretching out his arms to grab Rumlow's wrists before they could twist down to shock Hermione. Steve threw Rumlow to the side and the STRIKE commander grunted as he slammed into the wall.

"Woah, big guy," he panted, holding out a pacifying hand, that was negated by the rods he still held. "I just want you to know, Cap this isn't _personal_!" On the last word, Rumlow launched another attack, feinting left and right before jabbing Steve in the stomach. Steve knocked his hand away, punched him across the jaw and threw him upwards to smash into the elevator's lighting. Steve did nothing to stop Rumlow from falling bodily back to the floor. "It kind of feels personal," he muttered.

He scooped his shield onto his back and crouched next to Hermione. She was half buried under some of the other agents. When he tried to pull her out from the assorted bodies, he noticed the neck of her cape was almost strangling her so he ripped the fabric away, leaving it in a silver pool on the floor as he stood with her draped over his shoulder.

They needed to make a quick getaway (he doubted they'd be allowed to just walk out of the front door now) so he pressed the homing button on the watch Hermione had given him for his birthday.

There was a bang on the elevator doors. "Give it up, Rogers!" an authoritative voice called through the metal. "Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!"

 _That's where you're wrong_ , Steve thought to himself, watching what looked very much like a missile head straight towards him. He turned his back on the window and shifted Hermione's body so that he was completely covering her as glass exploded around them.

When Steve turned back a second later, it almost looked as though his motorcycle had been there the entire time. He climbed on it, unconcerned about the agents that were getting crushed underneath, and enabled the stealth mode to hide them visually and keep them off any of S.H.I.E.L.D's scans. After making sure his hold on Hermione was secure, he revved the throttle and took off through the broken window without a backwards glance.

* * *

A/N Hope you enjoyed!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N Hi there! Thanks for all your continued support. Let's get on with the story!

* * *

Natasha walked through the mall in the direction of the wedding boutique. To anyone watching, she appeared casual, strolling leisurely to her destination, but she was really on high alert. _Every_ agent would be more watchful the morning after the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D had been assassinated, but the call Natasha had received on her cell a few minutes ago made her even more so.

The polite, female voice on the other end of the line had informed Natasha that her appointment to try on bridesmaid dresses had been brought forwards a few hours and requested that she come to the store at her earliest convenience. In truth, after Fury's death, Natasha had forgotten about her promise to go shopping with Hermione and if she _had_ remembered, she probably would've expected the appointment to be cancelled, not brought forwards. Hermione had seemed understandably emotional when she'd last seen her and, though Natasha was made of pretty stern stuff, even _she_ didn't feel entirely comfortable trying on gowns when she'd said goodbye to Fury's cold body not yet two hours ago. Which was why this dress appointment didn't make much sense.

It _could_ just be an innocent rescheduling due to the store's staffing or resources, but Natasha's gut told her differently. The worst case scenario was that she was walking into a trap from which she wouldn't return, and not many of the other possibilities she imagined were much more positive, which begged the question, why was she going? It would be much safer to head in the opposite direction and get the hell out of the city, especially if Fury's assassin was who Natasha suspected it was… But Natasha Romanoff didn't live her life to be safe, so she strode into the boutique, prepared to act at a moment's notice.

The store hadn't been open long that morning and it was a weekday, but Natasha's spirits weren't much improved by the lack of shoppers inside. In fact, amongst the racks of white and cream gowns, displays of tuxedos and ostentatious hats, it was completely deserted. That _was_ unusual. If this was a setup, undercover agents would normally be deployed to act as members of the public to maintain an impression of normality so the target wouldn't be tipped off.

The boutique's doors clanged shut at the same time Natasha heard a rustle of fabric behind her. She turned, intending to defend herself against this person or persons unknown, and was more than surprised to discover that she was fighting off a couple of sophisticatedly-dressed mannequins. The figures moved surprisingly quickly and given their hard plastic composition, Natasha had a feeling she was doing more damage to her own body than theirs when she tried to free herself from their clutches.

"What the hell, Granger?" Natasha called, aware that it was only she who could be responsible for animating the now trio of dummies who had successfully pinned her to the ground.

A small pair of booted feet came into Natasha's limited view and she raised her eyes to see a female figure standing above her. The woman's hair was black and straight, her eyes green, skin pockmarked and her nose short and bulbous. If Natasha had walked past the woman in the street, she wouldn't have been any the wiser to the woman's identity, but the wand she pointed hostilely downwards at Natasha meant there was no doubt. When Natasha looked past the irregularities, she could see that it was still Hermione after all. She didn't seem particularly comfortable as she looked down on Natasha and she cast a troubled glance over Natasha's shoulder. Turning her head as much as the mannequins would allow, Natasha saw a rather muscular figure behind her. His appearance was altered too but she knew it must be Steve. His gaze was far steelier that Hermione's.

"No wonder you can't get any bridesmaids if this is how you treat them," Natasha shot at Hermione.

"I'm sorry," she replied, sounding like she genuinely meant it. "But we can't afford to take any chances."

"We have some questions for you," Steve said behind her.

Natasha scowled. "I'm not answering any questions until you call these things off – it's not like either of you need them."

Hermione looked over at Steve and he must have agreed because Natasha felt the mannequins releasing their hold. She got to her feet, making a show of brushing herself down and straightening her clothes.

"What's with the weird faces?" she asked, looking at them curiously. It created a disconcerting feeling because they both did and didn't look like themselves. "Who're you hiding from?"

" _We're_ the ones asking the questions," Steve said, taking a couple of steps forwards. He looked at her mistrustfully, which was ironic considering _they_ had accosted _her_.

"Well, get on with it then," Natasha prompted, glancing between them.

Hermione's wand remained raised as she reached into the pocket of her jeans and withdrew a small, silver device. "We want to ask you about this." She held it up as she moved closer. Natasha took a moment to recognise it as the flash drive she'd downloaded the S.H.I.E.L.D intel onto while aboard the Lemurian Star yesterday.

"Where did you get that?" she asked sharply.

"Why would we tell you?" Steve countered.

"Fury gave it to you," Natasha accused with realisation. "Why?"

"We want to know what's on it," Hermione said, ignoring the question. Natasha noticed the flash drive had been tucked out of sight again. Whatever was on that drive had obviously cost Fury his life. She understood why the two of them were on such high alert now.

"Well, I don't know," she denied quickly.

" _Stop lying_ ," Steve growled.

Natasha looked at him coldly. "I only _act_ like I know everything, Rogers."

"I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?" he asked hostilely.

Natasha gave the smallest shrug of her shoulders. "It makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in."

"And you didn't see anything that would give you a clue to its contents?" Hermione asked again.

"Nothing."

Natasha wondered why they were so reluctant to plug in the drive and just find out for themselves. Unless they didn't want anyone to know they were looking at it… The drive had a level six homing program; as soon as it was booted up, S.H.I.E.L.D would know its exact location. Steve and Hermione were the most straight up people she knew (despite the fact that they had lured her here under false pretences) so if they were worried about being tracked by S.H.I.E.L.D, then S.H.I.E.L.D were no longer safe. "What happened when you got called into the Triskelion?" she asked.

They exchanged glances but didn't say anything. They didn't trust her. Ordinarily, she'd perfectly understand and encourage that sentiment, but she found herself oddly hurt. Sometimes, the cold, distant Black Widow persona she'd created would develop a chink in its armour and she'd be painfully reminded that she was human after all. She almost wanted Hermione and Steve to know that she truly considered them her friends but, at the least, she wanted them to trust her to help them avenge the Director's death.

"I know who killed Fury," Natasha stated, letting that sink in. They gazed at her uncertainly. "Most of the intelligence community believe he doesn't exist, but the ones who do call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with at least two dozen assassinations in the last _fifty_ years."

Steve didn't look impressed with this information. "So he's a ghost story."

"Five years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran," Natasha told them. "Somebody shot at my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer so he shot him straight through me." She lifted up the hem of her t-shirt to show them the ugly scar that was the remains of the bullet wound on the side of her stomach. "A soviet slag, no rifling," she emphasised, the similarity to Fury's shooting now clear to them. "Bye-bye bikinis," she muttered, pulling her t-shirt back down.

Hermione looked troubled but Steve replied dryly, "Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now."

Despite the situation, Natasha had to fight to stop a smirk gracing her features. "Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried. Like you said, he's a ghost story."

Hermione sighed and finally lowered her wand with a shake of her head, before turning to Steve. "We're going to have to load up the drive and see what this 'ghost' was after."

He nodded in agreement. "But you should get out of town," he suggested to Natasha and she bristled at the very idea. "S.H.I.E.L.D's been compromised and we don't know who we can trust." Which basically translated as, 'We don't trust you enough to not to stab us in the back if you work with us so we'd rather you were in another part of the country,' and she felt another unexpected dose of unhappiness.

"I can help you," she pointed out. "You two are brilliant but your brains don't go down the same channels as mine and you might need another perspective."

"Steve?" Hermione said. She looked more positive about the notion than him.

"Did you not learn anything from Rumlow?" he muttered, frowning. "He would've killed you."

"I want Natasha with us," she said. "Her experience is invaluable." Steve opened his mouth, seemingly to protest, but Hermione spoke over him. " _I trust her_." She turned to look Natasha straight in the eye. "I trust you."

Natasha couldn't decide whether she was touched by Hermione's words or exasperated by her naïve nature. Luckily for her and Steve, Natasha had no intention of betraying that trust.

* * *

Sam Wilson wished he'd been doing something extremely cool when Laila, the hot girl from the front desk, came to his office to say that he'd had a call from 'The running man's' fiancée'. Her lips had spread into a quizzical smile as she'd relayed the message and Sam played on her interest by acting as though he regularly communicated through such covert and mysterious means. Her eyes looked at him with more intrigue than they normally did when she glanced over her shoulder at him as she left the room, and Sam grinned to himself as he dialled in the number Hermione had left for him in her message.

The tone dialled once before it was picked up. "Sam?"

"Hey, what's up? Are you and Ste – "

"We need your help," the female voice cut in. It still had an English accent but, for some reason, he thought it sounded different from when he'd last heard it. "If there was anyone else in the city we could turn to, we would. I'm really sorry."

"Um, sure, what do you need?"

Fifteen minutes later, Sam was letting Steve, Hermione and the red haired woman he'd seen driving that awesome car yesterday morning (who was introduced to him as Natasha, though he knew she was the Black Widow), into his home. They all looked a little bit spooked by something.

"Like Hermione said, we're sorry about this," Steve said as they stepped through the front door. "But everyone we know is trying to kill us."

"Not everyone," Sam pointed out as he motioned for them to take seats at his kitchen table. They sat silently, troubled expressions on their faces. "How about some coffee?" he suggested. "And I know it's a bit early but I can make some lunch, you know, if you guys eat that sort of thing."

Hermione smiled tightly at him. "Thank you."

He nodded and started pulling things out of the fridge and cupboards. Hermione got up to give him a hand. He tried to convince her it wasn't necessary but she insisted.

It was a couple of minutes before any of them spoke again.

"Are you OK?" Steve asked, looking at Natasha as she stared unseeingly into the mug of coffee Hermione had passed her.

"Yeah," she replied automatically, but even to Sam's ears she didn't sound convincing. He didn't mean to eavesdrop but the sound of him slicing bread wasn't exactly loud.

"What's going on?" Steve pressed gently.

"When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D, I thought I was going straight," Natasha explained lowly. "But I guess I just traded the KGB in for HYDRA." She shook her head ruefully. "I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but… it seems I can't tell the difference anymore."

"We've had a rather disturbing few hours," Hermione said quietly to Sam as she sliced tomatoes, obviously noticing his surprised expression at the mention of the long-defeated Nazi division.

"It certainly sounds that way," he muttered. If HYDRA had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D, it made sense why the three of them were laying low in his home instead of going back to base; everyone knew about Captain America's battle against them.

"Thanks for saving my life, Hermione," Natasha called. "I owe you."

"I wasn't about to let my maid of honour get blown up," she replied in a light tone that caught Sam by surprise. "Especially when I found the dress I want you to wear while we were waiting for you to show up at the boutique."

Natasha eyed her warily. "What colour?"

"Green."

"Length?"

"Floor."

"Sleeves?"

"None, but it comes with a sheer yoke."

Natasha weighed this up for a moment and then nodded. "Alright."

Sam saw Hermione smile to herself as she carried on preparing a salad. He found it a little odd that they could switch conversation topics so easily.

"So, the question is: who in S.H.I.E.L.D could launch a domestic missile strike?" Natasha posed, sounding more confident now.

"Pierce," Steve replied heavily.

"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world," Natasha pointed out.

"He's not working alone," Hermione put in. "Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star, as was Jasper Sitwell."

"Hmm," Steve murmured. "So the _real_ question is: do we go after the big fish or the little fish?"

"Are you guys crazy?" Sam asked in amazement, putting down the knife he'd been using to spread butter. "It sounds like you're the three most wanted people in Washington right now. You're not going to be able to kidnap anyone in broad daylight." He walked over to a pile of folders he kept on the side and tossed one onto the table.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Call it a resume," Sam answered as Natasha looked at photo that lay on top.

"Is this Bakhmala?" she murmured. "The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you." She turned to Steve. "You didn't say he was a para-rescue."

"Is this Riley?" Steve asked, looking at the other figure in the photo.

"Yeah," Sam answered softly. Even now, it still hurt.

"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs," Natasha commented. "What did you use, a stealth chute?"

Sam picked up the folder they had overlooked and handed it to Steve. "No, these."

He looked at the contents and was obviously surprised by what he saw. "I thought you said you were a pilot."

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "I never said pilot."

Hermione placed the salad bowl on the table and then looked at the contents too but Steve shook his head. "I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason."

"Dude, Captain America needs my help," Sam argued. "There's no better reason to get back in."

Hermione placed a soothing hand on Steve's arm and he relented with a nod of his head. "Where can we get our hands on one of these?"

This part was slightly less good news. "The last one's at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall."

Steve and Natasha looked expectantly at Hermione. "That shouldn't be a problem," she replied in a care free voice. "Sam, could I use the bathroom to freshen up before lunch?"

"Er, sure," he replied, taken aback by the quick change of conversation. "Down the hall, on your left."

"Thanks." She smiled at him and left the room.

Natasha stood, stretching out her limbs. "Mmm, now we've got the beginnings of a plan, I'm OK with admitting that I'm _starving_. What've you got for us?"

Sam finished assembling a dozen rounds of sandwiches and had just placed them all onto the table, when Hermione returned, hauling something quite heavy into the room. Sam recognised it at once and his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"But…" he muttered. "I thought you went to the bathroom?!"

"I did," she replied simply, eyes twinkling mischievously. "And then I went to Fort Meade to get this. I told you it wouldn't be a problem."

Steve was trying hard not to chuckle but Natasha was openly smirking at his shock.

"Sorry," Steve said, not sounding particularly genuine. "I guess I failed to mention that my fiancée is also known as the Sorceress."

"Yeah, that _definitely_ didn't come up," Sam confirmed.

* * *

Steve methodically flexed and relaxed his fingers around the handle of his shield as he and Natasha waited in anxious silence for Hermione's return.

"I still can't decide whether us being here is a stroke of brilliance or complete lunacy," Sam's voice said in his ear. He was sat on the roof of the large, domed auditorium, expertly disillusioned by Hermione so he could give them the heads up if anyone was heading their way.

Natasha shrugged. "We'll soon find out."

Hermione had been gone for no more than three minutes, but Steve already felt like that was too long. Sure, abducting Jasper Sitwell from the Triskelion would be near impossible for anyone else, but, for Hermione, it shouldn't be that hard…

They'd decided to go for the little fish in the end. There was still about forty hours until Project Insight was set to launch and they didn't want to spook HYDRA into action before they could actually react to their grand plan. If interrogating Sitwell didn't prove particularly helpful, they could always move onto Pierce next. With someone like Hermione on your side, there didn't seem like a lot you couldn't do and that's why he didn't feel as depressed as he could have to discover that he was fighting an enemy he'd thought had long ago been buried. He was only glad that he was able to try and stop them again; hopefully this time for good.

That wasn't to say that it would be plain sailing; the four of them were up against it, no doubt about that, especially when they didn't know how deeply HYDRA had infiltrated into S.H.I.E.L.D. And it was disconcerting to know that your former colleagues, the people who best knew your strengths and weaknesses, were doing everything they could to hunt you down.

In response, he and Hermione had taken as many precautions as they could think of to stop that from happening. Steve had discarded their super-suits and cell phones so they couldn't be tracked. Hermione had disguised her voice when talking to Natasha and Sam on the phone (in case S.H.I.E.L.D were using voice recognition software) and avoided using her own or Steve's name (for fear that they were being used as keywords that could be tracked). In the wedding boutique, Hermione had ensured the public kept away from the store and had modified the security footage. Her magic had also meant that when they'd loaded the flash drive in a computer store, there was next to no chance of Rumlow and his STRIKE team spotting them. Neither Hermione nor Natasha could bypass the security on the drive so they'd resorted to a tracer which had located the software's origin to Camp Lehigh in New Jersey. Steve thought he must've misread the location at first, surprised as he was to see the name of the army base where he'd first trained. Hermione had apparated them straight there and they had soon discovered the secret underground room where Dr Zola's brain had been preserved on thousands of feet of databanks. Zola informed them that the flash drive contained an algorithm he had created. He wouldn't tell them what it was but, considering Zola was predicting a purification process that would pave the way for HYDRA's new world order, it wasn't going to be something too cheerful. Natasha's warning of an incoming missile had meant Hermione quickly disapparating them away from New Jersey. Wanting to stay in Washington to be able to react to the latest developments, they'd turned to Sam (but not before Hermione undid their face alterations to avoid freaking him out).

Steve knew Hermione was missing the reassurance of her magical pocket but that had been left in the Triskelion's elevator when they'd made their escape. They had decided that, if they could, they'd avoid returning to Hermione's apartment to get their hands on more supplies. It was well protected, but it wasn't worth the risk of underestimating HYDRA and having some sort of catastrophe on their hands.

A familiar pop announced the expected arrival.

"He's here," Steve immediately relayed to Sam.

"Alright, let's see if anyone decides to do anything about it," Sam replied as Steve watched Sitwell closely. The Agent was understandably startled at having been magically transported across the city but he was doing his best to appear calm.

"What the – " Sitwell gasped, his wide eyes taking in Steve and Natasha. He spun around, probably looking for a sign of Hermione but she kept herself disillusioned. "You think you can intimidate me?" Sitwell asked, trying to sound confident.

Natasha chuckled lowly. "We don't _have_ to."

Sitwell glanced quickly between them and then over his shoulder at the still invisible Hermione. "Is that so?"

Steve nodded. "We don't exactly need your cooperation to find out what you know; that's one of the many benefits of having a sorceress on your side."

"Don't worry," Hermione's voice called, making Sitwell twist in the direction it was coming from, "it's not a painful experience. What you _should_ be worried about is the little tracking device that you activated the moment I brought you here."

"What tracking device?" Sitwell sneered.

"The one HYDRA agents are wearing to alert their superiors of unusual activity that might pinpoint any interaction with us," Steve replied. Most agents carried some sort of tracking device on them for safety reasons and the four of them were sure that HYDRA would be extra conscious of any of their colleagues suddenly disappearing to a new location given Hermione's abilities.

"Your friends are probably on their way right now," Natasha said emotionlessly. "And when they get here, they'll kill you for what you've revealed." Sitwell started to protest the unfairness of this but Natasha spoke over him. "You honestly think they'll care if we extract it from you against your will? HYDRA aren't exactly known for being agreeable people."

"Of course, HYDRA might not come at all," Steve reasoned. "They might consider you a lost cause already or perhaps they won't want to risk being exposed yet."

"The last time they managed to pinpoint our location," Hermione said lightly, "do you know what they did?"

Sitwell's eyes widened, obviously recalling the missile sent to Camp Lehigh. He opened his mouth to say something but he paused at the calm expressions on Natasha and Steve's faces. "You don't seem particularly worried about being blown up," he muttered.

"Well, it doesn't take much for me to get us safely away," Hermione replied. "But I'm guessing you haven't recognised where we are yet."

Sitwell frowned and raked his eyes over the rows of seats and the unusual large, white circles on the walls and ceiling. Realisation dawned on his face and he chuckled, "The CIA's Langley auditorium. I've got to hand it to you, that's a clever move."

What the four of them were counting on was Hydra's unwillingness to get the CIA involved in their affairs. If Hermione and Steve had chosen any neutral location, no doubt the undercover HYDRA agents would descend en masse, guns blazing, and they'd be able to cover it up without much difficultly. They couldn't do that here.

"And if HYDRA _doesn't_ try to send someone after you, you're still going to have a swell time trying to explain to the Agency what you were doing here after we're done with you," Steve pointed out.

Sitwell's expression darkened. "It seems like you've got it all figured out," he said sarcastically. "So what's the point in telling me?"

"We just didn't want you to get your hopes up," Natasha explained as she walked up to him and punctuated the sentece with a kick to his chest. Sitwell tumbled over a row of seats before Natasha leapt over and held him steady so that Hermione could access his mind.

Steve knew that this mind penetration was always her last resort but, when there were so many lives at stake, it wasn't a particularly difficult decision for her to make.

"You see anything?" Steve asked Sam while Hermione, now visible, carried out her scrutiny.

"All clear," he replied confidently. "Are you guys nearly done?"

Hermione suddenly stumbled away from Sitwell with a gasp.

"Er, I'll get back to you," Steve said quickly to Sam before focusing on Hermione. "What is it?" he asked in alarm, taking a couple of steps towards her.

"Zola's algorithm is going to target people who are a threat to HYDRA," she said quickly. "They use all our data: voting patterns, medical history, emails and phone calls to determine whether we're a threat now or even in the _future_. If those helicarriers go online, they're going to wipe out the threats a few _million_ people at a time!"

Steve nodded curtly, appalled but unsurprised at the lengths HYDRA would go to create their vision of the world. "Keep looking," he ordered, "See if you can glean anything else from him."

Steve reached to his communication device, intending to inform Sam of their progress but Sam's voice spoke first. "I might have something," he said lowly. "I _think_ I can hear some sort of airborne vehicle approaching but I can't see anything."

Natasha glanced at him and Steve knew she shared his belief that a heavily-cloaked S.H.I.E.L.D jet was closing in.

"Wait, I can sort of see it now; it's like a shimmery patch of sky. Do you want me to intercept?" Sam asked. The words were barely out of his mouth when a panicked yell followed. "Take cover!"

Steve reacted instinctively, launching himself towards the others as the ceiling exploded above them. Falling flames and debris prevented him from getting much closer but he could see that they were mostly protected, hidden underneath the seats, as Hermione began to cast a protective spell. A spray of bullets shattered her ward before it had time to form properly and Steve turned to see the mysterious man who'd killed Fury drop rapidly from the ruined ceiling, a submachine gun in his grasp. He landed with a thud; upright and knees bent, but the impact should have broken his legs. The Winter Soldier was definitely more than just a man.

The assassin holstered the gun whilst simultaneously reaching over his shoulder to retrieve a different weapon; a Colt M4A1 with a M203 Grenade Launcher. Steve recognised it well, seeing as it was a standard STRIKE weapon and in an enclosed space like this, that grenade launcher was particularly deadly.

"Sitwell's dead," Natasha said quickly as the Winter Soldier swapped guns. "Bullet to the skull, nothing we could do. It's time to go."

"Agreed," Steve replied, running towards the assassin. "Hermione, get Natasha and Sam away then come back for me. I'll keep him busy." The whoosh of a grenade being launched forced Steve to duck behind his shield, legs braced for the inevitable impact but the explosion occurred way off to his right.

"I'll see you in a few seconds," Hermione promised and he knew that she was responsible for the diversion of the grenade. He had no real time to appreciate the gesture as he resumed his sprint towards the Winter Soldier, who had trained his weapon on the spot Natasha and Hermione had last occupied.

Steve leapt at him and the Winter Soldier quickly aimed a metal fisted punch to Steve's head but he was able to use his shield to block it. A loud clang reverberated in his ears. The assassin shoved the shield aside and kicked Steve away, following it up with shots from the assault rifle. Steve crouched down and hurried along the row of seats, bits of upholstery flying through the air as the bullets chased him.

Finding the rifle out of ammunition, the Winter Soldier threw it to one side and resumed with the submachine gun. Steve took advantage of the pause in fire to get closer and force the gun out of his hands. They engaged in a struggle of fists and kicks and Steve was unable to prevent the Winter Soldier from relieving him of his shield as he flipped away.

They sized each other up for a moment and then, after Steve just managed to avoid his own shield as it was flung in his direction, resumed their hand to hand combat. The assassin had managed to draw a combat knife and Steve had to work very hard to prevent the deadly blade sinking into his skin.

Steve managed to lay a hearty punch to the Winter Soldier's head, making him reel backwards, and twisted a forceful kick into his chest, forcing the assassin to tumble over a couple of rows of seats. Steve followed, punching him powerfully in the head again before taking a sharp step backwards to avoid having his chest sliced open. Steve stamped down on the wrist that held the blade, forcing the Winter Soldier to release it.

With a mighty heave, the assassin used his legs to flip Steve over and Steve reached out at whatever he could to gain some balance. One hand grasped the seat next to him and the other scrabbled around at the Winter Soldier's head, dislodging the mask that covered the lower part of his face. It fell to the floor without a sound but Steve was too busy receiving a knee into his abdomen to notice. He barged the Winter Soldier with his shoulder and then, using the chairs to support his weight, swung both his legs at the assassin's chest, launching him backwards a few yards.

The assassin rolled over backwards and got to his feet, looking at Steve menacingly.

Steve recognised that face instantly and he unconsciously relaxed his posture. The hair was much longer, all traces of the usually jovial expression had been replaced by darkness but there was no mistaking it. " _Bucky_?" he asked, almost unable to believe who he was seeing.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" he replied immediately, seemingly sincere in his confusion. But there was no mistaking the semi-automatic pistol he levelled at Steve's chest.

A burst of light flung Bucky backwards and a familiar hand wrapped around Steve's wrist before he felt the accustomed squeeze of apparation.

They reappeared in a wooded area next to a large, manmade dam with Sam and Natasha standing nearby. Sam had his arm pressed against her shoulder and even from here Steve could see his hand was red with her blood. Hermione stood in front of him, his shield in her hand as her eyes worriedly searched his.

"It was really him?" she asked gently and Steve nodded. "But how is that possible?"

"When Zola captured his unit in '43, he experimented on Bucky," Steve said lowly as his stunned mind tried to make sense of what he'd seen. "Whatever Zola did, it helped Bucky to survive the fall. They must have found him..." Guilty thoughts swirled around his head as he pictured what his best friend must have been through for the past seventy years. Hermione let his shield fall to the ground and reached her arms around his neck, one hand stroking his back, the other running her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," she whispered, the combined effect of her touch and voice making him shiver slightly.

"Er, is everything OK?" Sam asked tentatively. "You know, apart from this gunshot wound I'm stemming with my hand."

"Let's get inside," Hermione suggested, releasing her hold on Steve. "Then I can fix you up," she added to Natasha. "We haven't got much time."

In somewhat of a daze, Steve picked up his shield once more and followed the others to the door that was set back into the wall of the dam. He frowned as he realised what Hermione had just said. "Why haven't we got much time?"

"Well, what I saw the second time I went into Sitwell's mind explains why HYDRA were willing to take on the CIA," Hermione answered as she pushed open the somewhat rusted metal door. It seemed she was familiar with the location but Steve couldn't say the same. "HYDRA think they'll only have to put them off for a short while because the helicarriers are launching in just under two hours."

There were a series of disbelieving groans and worried glances and they consciously quickened their steps.

A couple of figures appeared further along the dimly lit corridor and Steve tensed but Hermione didn't seem worried. "Did you just say _two hours_?!" a familiar female voice said and as they got closer, Steve saw that it was Maria Hill, Fury's former second in command. Steve glanced between Hill and Hermione suspiciously as neither seemed surprised to see the other. Had Hermione deliberately kept Hill's location a secret from him? "Who's this?" Hill asked, pointing at Sam.

"A new friend," Hermione answered simply.

The other figure with Hill was male, suited, and strangely familiar too. He was looking at Natasha in concern. "Do you need me to take her?"

"No, I can handle it," Hermione replied confidently. "But we need to see him."

Hill nodded and motioned towards a side corridor.

"See _who_?" Natasha asked but there no answer was offered.

As they followed Hill, Steve stared at the back of Hermione's head, not enjoying being kept out of the loop. She seemed to sense his gaze because she looked over her shoulder with a nervous expression and dropped back to walk next to him.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly as they emerged into an equally dark, dank room. "I so badly wanted to tell you…"

Hill pushed a large plastic sheet to one side to reveal a figure lying in a hospital bed. A figure Steve had watched die very early that morning.

Nick Fury raised his head slightly at their entrance and peered around at them all. "About damn time."

* * *

A/N Poor Steve! The Bucky revelation and then liar!Hermione revelation all in a few minutes :(

So, those people who know Captain America: The Winter Soldier well will be aware that the helicarriers aren't due to be launched that quickly in the film but Pierce and his HYDRA advisers (Rumlow, in particular) know Hermione is capable of seriously fast work and will want to launch Project Insight before she can stop them. That's why everything is sped up in this fic. When I was planning this, I really wanted them to go after Pierce and have this big confrontation with Bucky coming to rescue him and then still carry on with the helicarriers but it just didn't work so I went with a different setting for Sitwell's interrogation instead!

Hope you enjoyed it.

Love,

Lil Drop of Magic

P.S. We're so close to Civil War that by the time the next chapter comes up I will have already seen it! We get it on the 29th April in the UK and I have obviously already booked my tickets. I am both excited and terrified to see the film (Please don't hurt each other too much, guys, I don't want to cry, Marvel...)!


	14. Chapter 14

A/N Sorry it's a bit later than normal. Thanks for all your support.

* * *

As she healed Natasha's gunshot wound, Hermione could feel Steve's displeasure bearing down on her. He hadn't said anything but she knew he was angry and hurt that she'd withheld important information from him; had consistently _lied_ to him ever since he'd initially gone in search of the Winter Soldier.

"Lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum," Fury said, listing his injuries and Hermione made mental notes of each one so she could heal him too when she was finished with Natasha. "Shattered collar bone, perforated liver and one hell of a headache."

"Don't forget your collapsed lung," reminded the doctor who'd been looking after Fury.

"Let's not forget that," Fury agreed. "Otherwise, I'm good."

"They cut you open," Natasha said blankly, not even paying attention as Hermione's spell somewhat painfully knitted her skin back together in the absence of any Essence of Dittany. "Your heart stopped."

"Tetrodotoxin B, slows the pulse to one beat a minute," Fury explained. "Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him but we found a use for it."

Hermione tapped Natasha on the shoulder to show her she was done and then walked over to Fury's bedside, accepting the medical file the doctor handed her on his injuries.

"Why all the secrecy?" Steve asked. Hermione glanced at him, the first time she'd looked at him since revealing Fury was alive, and she could see the conflicting emotions within him. "Why not just tell us?" Why not just tell _me_? Hermione felt him silently ask her and she dropped her eyes back to Fury's file.

"Any attempt on the Director's life had to look successful," Hill answered matter-of-factly.

"Can't kill you if you're already dead," Fury pointed out, repeating the argument he'd put to Hermione last night to convince her not to heal him so they could realistically fake his death. "Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust." Hermione felt the atmosphere in the room get a touch colder. Fury sensed it too. "If Granger hadn't been with me when it happened, she wouldn't have known about it either so don't be petty children thinking I'm playing favourites," he warned lowly.

They spent the next few minutes informing Fury and Hill what their investigations had unearthed as Hermione went about vastly improving Fury's condition. Despite Hermione's spell work, he looked understandably worried when he heard the rescheduled launch time and frowned bitterly at Alexander Pierce's involvement.

"That man declined the Nobel Peace Prize," Fury muttered darkly. "He said, 'Peace wasn't an achievement, it was a responsibility.'" He paused and shook his head. "See, it's stuff like this that gives me trust issues."

"So, have you got any great ideas how we're going to stop that launch?" Natasha asked.

"I don't think the Council's accepting my calls anymore," he reminded them, before nodding at Hill and she picked up a thickset briefcase, opening it to reveal three large data chips.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"Once the helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they'll triangulate with Insight satellites," Hill explained, "becoming fully weaponized."

"We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own," Fury added, indicating the chips.

"One or two won't cut it," Hill warned. "We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are going to die."

Hermione nodded, the enormity of the situation not lost on her. However, she was reassured that the task didn't actually seem that difficult. HYDRA would know they were coming and would surely do their best to stop them, but she felt a surge of confidence that their hideous plot would be thwarted.

"We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA," Fury said. "We need to get past them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left – "

"We're not salvaging _anything_ ," Steve interrupted firmly. "We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down S.H.I.E.L.D."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. had _nothing_ to do with it," Fury protested.

"You gave us this mission, this is how it ends," Steve insisted with a challenging look at Hermione, daring her to disagree with him. But she couldn't. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been compromised, you said so yourself," Steve continued angrily to Fury. "HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed."

"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave?" Fury replied calmly. " _I noticed_."

Steve was unmoved. "How many paid the price before you did?"

Fury sighed heavily. "Look, I didn't know about Barnes."

"Even if you had, would you have told me?" Steve challenged. "Or would you have compartmentalized that too?" he questioned, with another quick glance at Hermione that caused a hot flash of guilt to sweep through her body. "S.H.I.E.L.D, HYDRA, it _all_ goes," Steve insisted.

"He's right," Hill agreed gently and Fury looked at her in surprise, disappointed to have lost the support of his second in command.

He turned to Hermione. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been such an important part of her life for the last two and a half years, but knowing that HYDRA had been lurking in the shadows the entire time tainted the whole thing. It was like Peggy had said: the best they could do was to start over, start something better. "I'm sorry, sir," she said lowly, knowing how much S.H.I.E.L.D meant to him.

Fury glanced at Natasha to gauge her feelings but she gazed back unmoved, and he finally turned to Sam.

"Don't look at me," he protested, then jerked his head at Steve. "I do what he does, just slower."

Fury chuckled humourlessly and shook his head, then lay back against his pillow with a deep sigh. "Well, looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."

The next twenty minutes were a chaotic plan-forming session as they ground out exactly how they intended to prevent HYDRA's plot and made contingencies should various parts go awry. When they discussed releasing all of S.H.I.E.L.D's and HYDRA's secrets for the world to see, Hermione could feel Steve's gaze on her again. None of them felt particularly comfortable making all that information public knowledge, especially Natasha with her checkered past. Hermione felt guilty that they planned to lay themselves so bare before the world when she had absolutely no intention of doing the same. It wasn't that she was being deliberately selfish, she just couldn't afford to have it announced around the world that Hermione Granger was the Sorceress – not if she didn't want to go to Azkaban anyway. She didn't have the time or the resources available to delete all the S.H.I.E.L.D files that mentioned her. There weren't even many that listed her name and fewer still that showed what she looked like, but just one was enough for the rest of the world to grab onto and parade her in all the media. So, if she was to protect herself, it had to be done magically.

They broke off to take some time to get themselves ready. Hermione snuck away to a deserted room and locked the door to prevent any of them interrupting her. She'd only ever attempted this spell once before and, that time, she'd been prevented from completing it by Clint shooting her with an arrow. She didn't know of any previous examples where someone had kept an identity secret using the Fidelius Charm, but she didn't see why it wouldn't work. After her close encounter with the charm over a year ago, Hermione had read up on the finer points of the Fidelius in case she should ever need to use it. It was a precise spell that relied heavily on the intentions of the caster to produce the desired outcome. If she so chose, she could make herself unperceivable, just like 12 Grimmauld Place had been when it had been the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, but Hermione knew that although it might be helpful in her upcoming mission, it would be a pain in the neck in the long run. Instead, she focused on all of S.H.I.E.L.D's records of Hermione Granger as the Sorceress, all her assignments and photographs, and entwined them with her other identities such as Saskia Hailsham-Grey and repeated the phrase, _Hermione Granger is the Sorceress,_ in her mind as she performed the complex spell.

Assuming she had completed the charm correctly, anyone who knew _she_ was the Sorceress was now unaware of that fact. They would be aware of the Sorceress and of Hermione Granger, but not that they were the same person. That knowledge was still in their mind somewhere (she couldn't just delete in from their brain) but it was obscured and _secreted_ away. It wouldn't take much for Hermione, as Secret Keeper, to divulge that clandestine knowledge. All she had to do was show herself or speak to anyone who already knew who she was, and that secret would be unlocked again. The only difference now was that they couldn't pass that information onto somebody else in any way, shape or form.

Hermione anxiously unlocked the door and re-entered the room she'd just left, hoping that her spell would behave as planned.

The others all looked over at her, their faces somewhat puzzled and confused. Most of them shook their heads after a couple of seconds and resumed what they were doing but Steve's gaze lingered.

"Are you nearly ready?" Hermione asked Natasha, who held a photostatic veil in her hand. The veil was a very sophisticated mask that would allow Natasha to adopt Councilwoman Hawley's identity so they could infiltrate the rescheduled meeting Alexander Pierce planned to have with the members of the World Security Council. Natasha's presence amongst the Council members was both to protect them, and to force Pierce to use his alpha level security clearance to release the S.H.I.E.L.D and HYDRA intel. But she and Natasha would have to leave soon to intercept the Councilwoman in time.

Natasha nodded, said a few last low words to Steve and then walked over to Hermione. "Let's go."

If the rest of the plan went as easily as their planting of Natasha amongst the World Security Council, Hermione would be a very happy witch. When she returned to their base, she found Sam and Steve standing on the dam, gazing out into the distance.

"Are we in?" Sam called as she approached.

Hermione nodded. "We're in."

"Cool," Sam replied and then looked knowingly between Hermione and Steve. "I'm, er, just going to check over my Falcon stuff one last time before we go," he said as an obvious excuse to give them some time alone. Hermione smiled gratefully at him and then stood next to Steve who hadn't even acknowledged her presence, leaving more distance between them than she normally would.

She'd been hoping to grab a couple of minutes alone with Steve but now that she had it, she didn't quite know what to say.

"I'm not going to pretend that I'm OK with you lying to me like that," he said eventually, still not looking at her, his voice short. "And nor am I just going to be able to forget it."

Hermione nodded mutely, feeling hot and sick at his words as she stared down at her hands. "I understand." She offered no defence, mostly because, although she _hated_ that she'd lied, she'd do it again if the situation called for it. Not that Steve would've ever betrayed Fury; a secret was much more likely to be kept if fewer people knew about it. She could try to convince herself all she wanted that she was really protecting Steve by preventing him from having to compromise his morals and lie about Fury's death (Hermione already felt bad for putting him in a position where he frequently had to deceive to protect her magical society) but it was such a weak argument that she too embarrassed to even voice it to him. Back in Steve's apartment, she'd nearly wept at Fury's order not to tell a living soul and to carry out the illusion that he'd died until she could report here to him when she knew exactly what was going on. Her tears in the hospital had been real; devastated as she was that she was clawing away at the foundation of her and Steve's relationship. Over the course of the day, she'd been able to put her deception to the back of her mind but she'd always been aware that this moment was coming.

"Right now, none of that stuff's really important, so all I need you to know is that I love you," he said, finally turning towards her, as tears swam in her vision.

A couple of teardrops escaped onto her cheeks as she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. "I love you too."

They stayed, joined like that, trying to forget what had gone before and all that was to come for just a moment. But the situation couldn't be kept at bay for long, there simply wasn't enough time, and they headed back inside, hand in hand.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione apparated with Steve, Sam and Hill to the stairwell outside the Triskelion's main communications room. She had managed to transfigure her own and Steve's clothes into rough replicas of their supersuits on his request, as he had argued that if they were going to fight a war, they had to wear a uniform (though she'd decided to do without the cloak this time).

After checking that everyone was ready, Hermione used her magic to unlock the door and the four of them stormed in, weapons raised. The technicians were understandably startled but followed the instructions to vacate the room. Hill settled herself in front of the screens and brought up an image of the top floor, showing the World Security Council enjoying Pierce's hospitality, meaning Natasha was in place.

Hill nodded at Hermione and Steve, who were standing poised over a microphone that would broadcast their voices throughout the entire facility.

"Attention, all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents," he said clearly. "This is Steve Rogers."

"And Saskia Hailsham-Grey," Hermione announced, willing to let that part of her identity be known amongst the Triskelion's workers – that name meant nothing to the Wizarding World and it wasn't as though the gathered S.H.I.E.L.D. agents could even tell anyone with the Fidelius Charm in place. "However, you may know us better as Captain America and the Sorceress."

"You've heard a lot about us today, some of you were even ordered to hunt us down," Steve continued. "But we think it's time you know the truth."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was," Hermione explained, not having to fake any of the heaviness in her voice. "It's been taken over by HYDRA and Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. We don't know how many more but we know they're in the building."

"They could be standing right next to you," Steve warned. "They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury and it won't end there."

"If you launch those helicarriers today," Hermione cautioned, "HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way unless we stop them."

"We know we're asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, always has been" Steve said, the gravitas in his voice reminding them all he'd been witness to such battles before. "And it's a price we're willing to pay. And if we're the only ones, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet we're not."

Steve nodded at her and she switched the microphone off before letting out a shaky breath.

"Did you two rehearse that beforehand?" Sam asked, looking both suspicious and impressed. "Or was it off the top of your heads?" The pair of them only replied with small smiles that gave nothing away.

Hermione kissed Steve on the cheek, disillusioned herself and then apparated to the Project Insight launch room to use her magic to wipe out the power. The first stage of their plan was to try to prevent the launch even happening. She and Steve had done their best to convince their S.H.I.E.L.D. colleagues to stand firm, which was all well and good, but pulling the plug was even better.

The agents in the large room were looking at each other uncertainly as the final few minutes of the launch sequence ticked away on a big screen in front of them.

Hermione walked over to the computer server in the corner of the room, wand at the ready.

There were two loud bangs and someone punched her twice in the back with enough force to send her crashing to the ground. The room was filled with loud shouts and it took a few dazed seconds for Hermione to realise that the reason she was in so much pain was because she'd been _shot_ not punched.

A hand grabbed her arm roughly, yanked her wand out of her grasp and pulled her bodily to her knees, nearly causing her to black out from the agony. "Hold your fire otherwise I'll kill her right here!" a familiar voice yelled and Hermione was just able to tilt her head upwards enough to see that Rumlow was the one who held her captive. Over his right eye, he wore a strange transparent device that she concluded must give him capabilities to see past her disillusionment spell. The force of the gunshot wounds had broken the camouflage enchantment and, through her somewhat blurred vision, Hermione could see the occupants of the room engaged in a tense standoff, though eyes would flicker in her direction every few seconds.

"Good," Rumlow called calmly. "Now, one of you has got ten seconds to pre-empt the launch sequence to send those helicarriers up now or I'll put a bullet in her brain."

The unarmed technicians, still sat at their computers, gaped at Rumlow and then glanced uneasily at each other as he started to count down the seconds.

Hermione forced herself to ignore the spreading moisture she could feel seeping through the back of her makeshift uniform and instead utilised her utter contempt for her former colleague to come up with a plan of attack. When Brock called out the number six, Hermione rallied against the pain her every movement caused and grabbed the combat knife she knew Rumlow always kept in a sheath on his thigh. Caught by surprise at her sudden movement, he didn't move fast enough to stop Hermione stabbing it into his leg. She was too weak to make a particularly deep cut but it was enough for him to relax his hold.

He swore and aimed the gun at her once more but shots rang out all around them and he was forced to take cover as a blonde agent advanced on him. Hermione was about to disapparate but a curly haired technician suddenly appeared at her side, holding her wand.

"Th-thanks," she said breathlessly, accepting it from him with trembling fingers. It took her longer to aim at the computer servers than she'd have liked but she managed to fire a charm to wipe them of power before she disapparated.

The medical room she'd transported herself to was empty and she locked the doors to keep it that way before half collapsing onto the bed as her legs gave way.

"Hermione, talk to me," Hill's voice said urgently in her ear.

"I'm here," she replied shakily, looking around the room for something that could help her. "I blew the servers. The launch has been stopped, right?"

"Someone sent the command out just in time," Hill said heavily. "Now that the launch has been initiated, the helicarriers are operating by themselves. It's time for Plan B."

"Right," Hermione replied with gritted teeth and blinked away tears of frustration. She summoned a syringe filled with a painkiller from the shelf and pulled it out of its packaging before placing it to one side.

"But it looked like there was a shootout in the launch room," Hill said. "Are you OK?"

"Just give me a minute and I'll get to the Alpha helicarrier," Hermione said, her voice as breezy as she could make it.

"Hermione…" Hill said uncertainly, seeing through the bright tone.

"Just keep this between us," Hermione urged, not wanting to distract Steve. "I'll be fine, I just need to concentrate." When Hill didn't respond, Hermione steeled herself for what she had to do. Rumlow couldn't have picked a more awkward spot to shoot her because, even with the mirror in the corner of the room, she couldn't really see what she had to do to heal herself. Nor was there any time to carry out a meticulous healing procedure. Luckily, one of the bullets had gone straight through because she had an exit wound slightly above her left hip but just below the lower rim of her breastplate. However, she highly suspected that the other shot had shattered her right scapula, which was why she was finding it almost impossible to move that arm without seeing black spots in her vision. She had to get that bullet out before she could start fixing the likely bone fragments and tissue trauma and, right now, there was only one way she could think to do that. Forced to use her unfamiliar left hand to hold her wand, she aimed it as best she could at her shoulder and summoned the bullet.

Hermione couldn't prevent a tortured scream erupting from her throat and she felt a fresh pulse of blood ooze from her shoulder but the bullet landed with a soft plop onto the bed in front of her. The black spots in her vision grew larger and she dug her fingernails into the white linen sheet to stop herself from passing out.

After a few seconds of focused, calming breathing, she started to cast her strongest healing charm. She knew it wouldn't be enough to heal herself completely, there were too many factors counting against her for that, but she just needed to tide herself over for a few minutes so they could stop the helicarriers, and then she could get some help to heal herself properly. When the spell was completed, she injected herself with some of the painkiller to take the edge off the agony she was still feeling, but not enough to compromise her ability to function.

Hermione apparated to the roof of the Triskelion to see where the various helicarriers were. They had emerged from the enormous bay doors and were ascending quickly, so it wouldn't take long for them to reach their target height of three thousand feet. She could see the heavy artillery guns chasing Sam through the air as he expertly manoeuvred his Falcon equipment to avoid them. An explosion on another helicarrier told her that was where Steve was fighting. The two of them were acting as diversions so that Hermione could swap the targeting blades.

Looking calculatingly at the nearest helicarrier, she spotted the large dome protruding from the underbelly of the vessel and apparated to it, arriving on the glass floor less smoothly than she'd like. She apparated again, right next to the control panel, and inputted the override that gave her access to the blades. She removed the old one, blew it apart with a jinx and replaced it with the new chip she had retrieved from a pocket in her skirt. "Alpha locked," she said to all channels.

"Glad to hear it," Steve's voice replied, sounding a little breathless. "I hadn't heard from you, I was beginning to get worried."

"I'm fine," she lied as she set her sights on the beta helicarrier.

"Uh, Hermione, you'd better get back here," Hill said, her voice tense. "There's something you need to see."

A curl of dread settled in Hermione's stomach at Maria's words but she duly apparated back to the communications room, prepared for some bad news. She heard it the moment she arrived…

"Hermione!"

It was her mother's voice, sobbing and terrified as she called for her. Hill's face was ashen and she simply pointed to the large screens on the wall in front of them. One of them showed her mum sitting bound to a chair, her fear plain to see as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Hermione, they want you to go to the Council room," her mother said in a trembling voice. "Please go, sweetheart, I – I don't know what they're going to do! Please, Hermione, please just do what they want!" Her mother broke down in tears again and Hermione turned her disbelieving gaze to the screen that showed Alexander Pierce waiting with the members of the Security Council and the unveiled Natasha, who was standing stock still as she stared coldly at Pierce.

"You've got thirty seconds to get here, Agent Granger," his voice called out, "otherwise I'll give the order to have your mother killed. And to prove that I'm sincere in my demands…"

The screen showing her mum zoomed out to reveal her dad tied and gagged next to her. There was a series of loud bangs.

" _No!_ " Hermione screamed as her father's body jerked and then slumped.

He was dead.

Hermione stared at the screen in shock, not even registering her mother's anguished wails. _This isn't happening_ , her brain said to try to protect her. _This isn't real_.

Hill stood up and put a hand to Hermione's shoulder, making her jump.

"Hermione, I…" Maria began to say and then, speechless, she closed her mouth.

"Fifteen seconds," Pierce warned.

"Don't tell Steve," Hermione whispered, shrugging off Maria's arm and apparating right to the middle of the Council room. Everyone except Pierce was staring at her with the same stunned look that Hill had worn.

"What do you want?" she asked him immediately, her voice shaking with repressed anger and sorrow.

"Nothing," he said lightly, his gaze taking in her bloodied suit with interest. "I want you to do nothing so that the launch can go ahead as planned. Everyone else in this room will still die, of course, including you, but you have my assurances that your mother will come to no harm."

Hermione stared at him, her mind oddly blank.

"There's no other way for you to save her," he continued. "A single move from you or the Councilwoman over here," he said, nodding his head at Natasha, "will be signing your mother's death sentence. And, before you get any ideas, you can't use your magic to search my brain for your mother's location like you to did to rescue Agent Romanoff a couple of years ago because I don't know where she's being held. We learnt our lesson from that mistake."

The revelation that HYDRA had been behind Natasha's abduction all those months ago barely registered in Hermione's mind. All she could focus on was Pierce's offer: millions of innocent lives (including her own, Steve's, Natasha's and all her other muggle friends) in exchange for her mum's.

The future of the planet lay in her hands…

* * *

A/N Hope you liked it! Only one chapter left in this story now!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N The final chapter, you guys! I didn't want to keep you waiting too long after Hermione has that horrible decision to make.

Just a warning to those who appreciate the heads up, there is a rather strong word in this chapter.

* * *

The moment seemed to stretch out forever as Hermione tried to comprehend the decision that lay before her.

When the seconds ticked by and Hermione remained locked in her horrific internal struggle, Natasha took the last few steps to the computer stand in the room and began to type the commands that would eventually lead to all of S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA's secrets being released onto the internet. "I'm sorry, Hermione," Natasha murmured lowly.

"I mean it," Pierce warned, looking at Natasha in annoyance, "I'll kill her mother."

Natasha paused her typing to spare him a cold glance. "Then do it." Her eyes flickered to Hermione who was watching Natasha dully, as though not really seeing her. "Get out of here," she instructed firmly. " _Now_."

"Hermione," Steve's voice suddenly called in her ear, "Where are we with Bravo?"

"You can still save her," Pierce said urgently, moving forwards to block Natasha from Hermione's gaze. "Just stay where you are and your mother will live."

" _Hermione_ , do you copy?" Steve called breathlessly.

"Nine minutes until the helicarriers are in position," Hill informed her gently.

"That's it," Pierce said softly, "You're doing the right – " He crumbled to the floor with a cry of pain, Natasha glaring down at him furiously. "Don't even talk to her," she snarled at him as he gingerly touched the back of his head with a whimper. She looked up at Hermione with an unreadable expression on her face. "You have to do this."

"The second you leave this room, she is _dead_!" Pierce spat, the malevolence in his voice more than making up for his huddled position on the floor.

Natasha put her hands either side of Hermione's head and locked their gazes together. "Hermione," she began.

Hermione trembled violently. "I can't," she gasped, "I don't – "

"Hey," Natasha said sharply, cutting her off. "You are going to do what you have to. There is _no_ choice here."

"Yes, there – " Natasha kicked Pierce in the face to shut him up without breaking her eye contact with Hermione.

" _Go_ ," Natasha urged, "before I throw you off the building myself and don't bother to question whether or not I'll do it."

"Hermione, please respond!" Steve's voice yelled in her ear, explosions and gunshots echoing in the background. "Do you need assistance? Where are you?" Hermione swallowed thickly. He was counting on her; risking his life as a decoy so that she could put a stop to this horrific scheme.

Tears obscured her vision as she drew a shaky breath and whispered, "I'm en route."

Natasha gave her an affirming nod and went back to finish releasing the intel.

"I hope this moment haunts you for the rest of your life," Pierce muttered bitterly as he got to his feet with a look of loathing on his face.

Hermione raised her wand at him furiously, a number of unsavoury spells desperate to burst from her lips, and he flinched. After considering which curse to hit him with, she realised he wasn't worth compromising herself by using dark magic. Instead, she settled for a classic; her voice shaky but clear as her anger, despair and heartbreak writhed within her.

" _Fuck you._ "

Then she disapparated, knowing that she'd never see her mother again.

She couldn't help but let out a few small sobs as she switched the second helicarrier's targeting blade. "Bravo locked," she passed on shortly, trying to obscure her inner despair and solely focus on the mission at hand.

"OK, last one Hermione and then it's over," Hill said gently, thankfully not mentioning what had happened in the last few of minutes.

"Right," Hermione replied numbly, brushing the tears off her cheeks and moving her position so she could get a good view of the Charlie helicarrier.

A second later, she was on the bridge that ran along to the control panel in the final domed room but she wasn't alone.

The Winter Soldier fired at her, an automatic pistol in each hand, but she'd apparated behind him before he'd even pulled the triggers. Her slicing jinx forced him to drop the weapon in his right hand and he just managed to duck out of the way of her stunning spell as he quickly fired the other pistol twice. She blocked the bullets with a rapid shielding spell and attempted to summon the gun from his metallic grip, but all the charm was able to do was make him lurch unnaturally towards her as he clung to the pistol. They were so close now that if he fired, she wouldn't have time to shield herself, so she apparated again at the same time he pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, their proximity forced the bullet to apparate with her and it brushed along the outer part of her upper arm when she rematerialized.

Hermione cried out at the searing pain but had to put it from her mind as the Winter Soldier leapt towards her, firing again. She aimed a curse at the pistol (before creating a shield against the bullet) and the gun exploded into little fragments. However, that didn't mean the assassin was any less deadly. Undeterred by the loss of his gun mid-leap, the Winter Soldier struck out at her with his metallic fist, the resulting impact against her magical ward sent them both crashing backwards. Hermione slammed into the railing and screamed at the hugely disproportionate pain as the black spots appeared in front of her eyes again. The stopgap healing she'd performed on her back must have ruptured because she was once more in unbearable agony. A fist closed around her throat and pulled her upwards so her feet were dangling in the air and his other hand savagely twisted her wrist, forcing her to drop her wand as her bones and ligaments snapped.

With her other hand, Hermione scrabbled desperately in the pocket of skirt, knowing she was seconds from death. Her fingers closed on what she was seeking. As forcefully as she could, she plunged the syringe at his face, barely an inch from his eye. Taken by surprise, he let go of her neck and she stumbled to the floor, holding out her hand against the railing to steady herself as the pain jarred along her body. He recovered at once, giving her no time to react before he jammed his knee into her abdomen and swiped his combat knife across her chest, the blade scraping against her breastbone. A blow to the head had her seeing nothing but white, leaving her completely disorientated, so much so that when she realised he had pushed her over the railing, she was too late to stop herself impacting sickeningly hard into the platform twenty feet below.

"S-St…" She tried to contact Steve to tell him she'd failed, that she was sorry, that she loved him, but she couldn't even summon enough strength to say his name.

The Winter Soldier's unemotional face loomed above her as he plucked the syringe from his cheek. Hermione closed her eyes so that she wouldn't have to look at him as she died…

* * *

"Hill, any word from Hermione?" Steve asked, ducking behind a huge cargo container to avoid some machine gun fire. "I can't raise her."

"Nothing since Bravo was locked and that was three minutes ago," Hill replied, her voice tense.

"I'm going down there," Steve decided, not wanting to consider why Hermione had gone silent on the comm. "Sam, where are you?"

"I'm sorry, Cap, I'm grounded," he replied. "The suit's down."

"Don't worry, I got it," Steve reassured him, holding up his shield and making a dash for the door that would lead him down to Charlie's server room.

"We've got five minutes, Cap," Hill informed him as he leapt down the stairs.

His previous tentative hopes that they were going to succeed were crumbling away rapidly. Hermione had held all the targeting chips and if she wasn't there, they had no chance of swapping the last one in time.

As soon as he stepped onto the bridge in the server room, Steve's heart shattered.

Hermione was dead.

He knew it instantly; her sprawled, blood soaked figure, pale and unmoving.

For a moment, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, he couldn't even _think_ as his sorrow numbed every part of his being.

And then his brain was willing to register the other person on the bridge; the man who had killed his Hermione, the very last person Steve wanted to fight.

Bucky was braced resolutely for the coming battle; his jaw set, determined.

Steve knew that his best friend was in there somewhere; he _had_ to be. "People are going to die, Buck," he said, trying to avoid looking at Hermione because it hurt too much. "I can't let that happen." Bucky didn't move. " _Please_ don't make me do this," he begged.

Realizing that he had no choice, Steve steeled himself then hurled his shield at Bucky, who used his metallic arm to deflect it backwards. As he ran forwards, Steve caught it, holding it up to block the pistol shots Bucky sent his way. Steve propelled Bucky backwards, making him crash to the metal floor and drop the gun. Steve leapt down to Hermione to search for the chip. As his hand fumbled through the material of her skirt, he kept half an eye on Bucky. His best friend fired again and Steve covered himself with his shield as his fingers finally found what they were searching for and he tucked the device in his pocket. Bucky's gun clicked to show it was out of ammo and Steve leapt back up to the railing above, Bucky now advancing on him with an already-bloodied knife.

Over the next minute, they would exchange blows then break apart for a few seconds and Steve would get closer to replacing the all-important targeting chip. He'd just thrown out the old one when Bucky rushed him, pushing them both over the railing and causing the new drive to slip from his grasp and his shield to tumble away. Their combat resumed with Steve desperately trying to fend Bucky off long enough for him to regain the chip. At one point, he closed his fingers around it, but Bucky knocked it away to the floor far below them. Steve kicked out at Bucky, making slide off the platform, and Steve jumped down to follow him.

Bucky got to the chip first and closed his fist around it. Steve leapt onto his back, holding an arm across his friend's throat, and leant backwards to force the bodies to the floor. Bucky struggled; his metallic hand reaching up to claw at Steve but he twisted his leg to pin Bucky's arm down. He pulled harder at Bucky's throat, restricting his airways, even though it tore at his very being to do it. Hermione had given her life to try and stop HYDRA and Steve was damned if he was going to fail her.

Bucky went limp and the chip clattered from his grasp. Steve released him and snatched up the drive before rushing to get up to the control panel.

"One minute," Hill called in his ear as he swung up to the platform.

There was a gunshot and pain erupted in the back of Steve's leg. He stumbled to the floor, realizing that Bucky must have reloaded the pistol. With no other choice but to continue, Steve ran, ducking low, to the central part of the platform and leapt onto a part that was out of Bucky's line of fire. He hauled himself up.

"Thirty seconds!"

"Stand by," he replied. All he had to do was place the chip into the slot and the battle would be won. He reached his hand into his pocket, where he'd once more kept it for safety, and retrieved the chip, reaching out to fulfil the mission.

Bucky shot him in the back.

Steve slumped to the floor, the chip still in his grasp. _No_ , he berated himself, they hadn't come this far to fail now. Ignoring the pain sweeping through his torso, he hauled himself up once more to finally slot the chip home. "Charlie locked," he gasped as he slumped back to the floor.

"OK, Cap. Get Hermione and then get the hell out of there," Hill ordered.

"Hermione's dead." Saying the words made it feel more real and an all-encompassing pain, far more powerful than his bullet wounds, swept through every part of him. Now that the targets had been successfully switched, nothing seemed to matter much anymore except that these helicarriers be blown from the air. "Fire now," he countered.

"But Steve…" she began and he angrily cut her off.

"Do it!" he yelled, staggering to his feet. "Do it now!"

There were a few seconds of quiet as he staggered down to Hermione on the platform below. He'd just bent down to lift her into his arms when the helicarriers started firing on each other. He stumbled to a sitting position and scooped Hermione into his lap.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her head as the booms and crashes echoed all around them.

A strained yell caught Steve's attention despite all the chaos and he turned his head, searching for the person he knew it had to have come from. Below them, Bucky was pinned down beneath a huge metal girder that had collapsed amid all the explosions. Steve didn't even hesitate to lower himself and Hermione down to the glass floor as carefully as he could; he wasn't about to lose his heart and his best friend in the same day.

Steve placed Hermione's limp body gently on the floor before staggering over to the large beam that had trapped Bucky. He wrapped his arms around the metal and braced himself, knowing that this would hurt. Steve heaved the girder upwards and it slowly rose a few inches. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bucky crawl out from the under the beam and Steve gratefully let it fall back down with a clang.

Bucky eyed him warily as they slouched, recovering from their efforts. "You know me," Steve panted as he hauled himself to his feet, hoping that he could break through whatever brainwashing Bucky had been subjected to.

" _No, I don't!_ " Bucky cried vehemently, lashing out angrily and knocking Steve down with a heavy blow to the body.

Undeterred, Steve got to his feet again. He could see the doubts creeping into his friend's mind. "Bucky, you've known me your whole life."

Bucky yelled, knocking Steve down again.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes," Steve told him between pants.

" _Shut up_!" Bucky snarled, shoving him away.

Steve's hand brushed Hermione's when he landed and he automatically curled his fingers around hers. With a heavy heart, he staggered to his feet, cradling her body against his chest and turned back to Bucky. "I'm not going to fight you," he told him calmly. "You're my friend."

Bucky stared at him. Then he roared and rushed at him, propelling him to the floor. "You're my mission," he insisted furiously, before punching him repeatedly and mercilessly in the head. " _You're my mission_!" he yelled between blows.

"Then finish it," Steve murmured, his head pounding. If Bucky needed to kill him, then so be it. "Cause I'm with you to the end of the line." These words, the same that Bucky had spoken to him over seventy years ago, seemed to give Bucky pause because his metal fist stayed aloft.

A large section of the server room collapsed into the glass floor, shattering it. Steve felt himself falling and he tensed his fingers, determined not to lose hold of Hermione as the water of the Potomac River enveloped them, forcing them down into its depths.

* * *

The music was the first thing Steve became aware of.

He cracked open his eyes tentatively, taking in the hospital gown he was wearing. He was still in a lot of pain and he turned his head slightly to see Sam dozing in a chair next to him.

"On your left," he said softly and closed his eyes again, ready to drift back to sleep.

There was a moment's pause and then Sam said, "Maybe you'd better check who's on _your_ left."

Steve forced his eyes open and twisted his head the other way per Sam's suggestion and got the shock of his life.

Sam chuckled at the expression on his face. "Yeah, the next time you think one of us is dead, can you make sure first before you give the order for us to be blown apart."

Steve stared, hardly daring to believe he wasn't dreaming. "You mean… She's not?"

Sam got stiffly to his feet and walked over to Hermione's bed. "She's going to be fine," he reassured, "which is more than I can say for you when she finds out you nearly killed both of you."

Steve knew he would happily take any punishment she dealt, so as long as it meant she was still with him. As Sam filled him in on the parts of the battle he'd missed, Steve kept his eyes on Hermione, revelling in the simple way her chest rose and fell with each breath she took.

"Hey, lazybones," a sardonic voice called from the door. "Are you not even out of bed yet?" Natasha smirked as she came alongside him but she squeezed his hand affectionately and kissed his cheek.

"Remind me to come and mock _you_ the next time you nearly die," he retorted and her eyes glinted in amusement. "Some of us suffered a bit more than one of your electric stingers."

The playfulness dropped from her expression as she glanced over to Hermione. "She hasn't woken yet?"

Steve shook his head.

She looked at Sam. "Have you told him?"

"No," he replied gravely, looking at Steve in sympathy. Steve glanced between them worriedly.

"What is it?" he asked. "You said she's going to be fine," he anxiously reminded Sam.

Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder and told him about Hermione's parents. Anger swelled within him at the depths Pierce had been willing to stoop to turn the tide in his favour.

"Hermione's greatest weakness is her heart," Natasha said lowly. "Pierce must have realised she was too strong to beat unless she was emotionally compromised."

"Bastard," Sam muttered, shaking his head.

As he gazed sadly at Hermione's unconscious figure, Steve sent a silent message to Mr and Mrs Granger, repeating the vow he'd made when he'd sought their permission to marry her; promising to love Hermione without condition, honour her each and every day, guide her when she asks for direction, support her when she's sad, challenge her to be a better person, and allow her to do all the same for him…

* * *

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and kept her gaze upwards to look at the trees. Of all the places to meet, why did it have to be a cemetery?

" _The path of the righteous man…_ "Sam muttered, reading the epitaph from Colonel Nicholas J Fury's brand new tombstone. "Interesting."

It had been roughly four days hours since the battle at the Triskelion and the world was still in complete uproar over the unveiling of HYDRA, the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and the outing of all their secrets. Numerous governments and agencies were scrambling to supress the intel Natasha had released, but they should know better than anyone that once something appeared on the internet, it was almost impossible to hide it again.

A committee had been formed on Capitol Hill to establish who was to be blamed for the crisis and what was to be done about it. Everyone involved in the hierarchy of S.H.I.E.L.D had been summoned to testify but Steve and Hermione had ignored the request to attend. So far, her Fidelius Charm had matched her expectations but she wasn't about to flaunt it by appearing in front of all those cameras to be judged and belittled for trying to protect the people of this world – she was already going to face enough questions from Kingsley when she got back to London.

Fury strolled towards them, his clothes still typically black but far less formal now. It was the first time Hermione had seen him since the battle and both of his eyes were obscured behind a pair of sunglasses.

"So, you've experienced this sort of thing before," he said to Steve as he indicated his grave.

"You get used to it," Steve replied.

"We've been datamining HYDRAs files," Fury told them. "Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship. I'm headed to Europe tonight, wanted to ask if you'd come," he proposed to Steve and Hermione.

Unsurprisingly, she possessed a great loathing of HYDRA and everything that they stood for and it would give her great pleasure to see every trace of them wiped from the planet – a feeling she knew Steve shared with her. But that would have to wait.

"There are a few things I've got to do first," she replied.

" _We've_ got to do," Steve corrected, reinforcing the promise he'd made to go with her every step of the way.

Fury nodded in understanding and turned to Sam. "How about you, Wilson? I could use a man with your abilities."

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam admitted.

"Alright then," Fury said evenly, shaking's Sam's hand and then Steve's. He paused when he stood in front of Hermione and his shoulders seemed to sag. "I'm sorry about your parents," he said sincerely.

She and Fury hadn't always seen eye to eye over the last two and a half years, but she knew that he kept the security of the people of the world at the heart of whatever he was doing. He'd made mistakes; they all had, but she recognised that he'd had a big influence on the strong person she was today and she was grateful for that.

Aware that, with the future so unclear, this might be a parting of ways, she hugged him. He stiffened (and she briefly wondered when he'd last experienced a hug), but then he tentatively patted her on the back, which she reasoned was about as cuddly as Nick Fury got. She let go and he cleared his throat.

"If anybody asks for me," he said to them, "tell them they can find me right here." He nodded at his tombstone and then walked off without another word.

"Wow," Natasha's voice called over their shoulders. "I honestly never thought I'd see the day…" she murmured, watching Fury with surprised eyes.

Natasha had visited Hermione in the hospital room not long after she'd first woken up. Steve spent the first few minutes apologising profusely for mistakenly believing her to be dead and putting her life in further jeopardy, which had led to him explaining what had happened after she'd passed out.

"You could have just checked your watch," she murmured sleepily. "My dial would have disappeared if I was dead."

He looked at her sheepishly and apologised again.

Unused to having to undergo muggle medical treatment, it had taken a lot of convincing from Steve to make her lie still and rest before she attempted to heal herself with her wand, which had been retrieved from the wreckage of the helicarrier.

Sam and Natasha appeared, drinking from Styrofoam cups of coffee.

"Well, aren't you a great sight for tired eyes," Sam said warmly when he saw she was awake. "You look amazingly alive for a dead girl."

"Shut it, Wilson," Steve mumbled with mock-irritation and Sam laughed.

Natasha lingered in the doorway, looking at Hermione uncertainly.

"Hey," Hermione greeted softly.

"Hey," she replied.

Hermione weakly held out a hand to her and Natasha walked forwards, accepting the gesture and squeezing her fingers affectionately in response. "I didn't know if you'd want to talk to me," Natasha admitted quietly.

"Why?" she replied in puzzlement.

Sensing that the two women were having a private conversation, Steve and Sam started talking loudly about the music that was playing from some speakers.

"I forced Pierce to kill your mother," Natasha explained, looking uncomfortable to be bringing it up.

Hermione's heart clenched painfully. "You didn't _force_ him to do anything," she pointed out, but, at the objecting look on Natasha's face, added, "but I know what you mean and I in no way blame you for what happened." Natasha looked sceptical at this so Hermione explained further. "I still could have stopped you or ignored you, but I _didn't_ , _I left,_ and I have to live with that decision."

"Then let me carry some of that burden," Natasha suggested.

"Why would you want it?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Because you don't deserve it," she answered earnestly. "And if I can save you from one moment of," she frowned, trying to come up with the right words, "of whatever you're going through, I will. You're annoyingly important to me."

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes. "Thank you," she responded softly, squeezing her hand again. "You're an incredible friend."

Strangely, an event that could have torn them apart, a moment that was possibly the worst of Hermione's life, had actually made their bond stronger than ever. After an intense few days in each other's company, it would be strange not to have Natasha close by for a while.

"Not going with him?" Steve asked her as she joined them by the false grave.

She shook her head. "No."

"But you're not staying here?" he checked.

She shrugged. "I blew all my covers," she explained. "I've gotta figure out a new one."

"That might take a while," he reasoned and Natasha smirked.

"I'm counting on it," she replied and then held out a paper file to him. "That thing you asked for, I called in a few favours from Kiev." Steve accepted it grimly and Hermione knew that it contained information about Bucky and his time as the Winter Soldier. "Just be careful, Steve," Natasha warned. "You might not want to pull on that thread."

"Thanks," he replied, tucking the file under his arm.

She nodded. "And now you two can do me a favour," Natasha said, addressing both Hermione and Steve and they looked at her quizzically. "There's a priest nearby who owes me. I called him and he's willing to perform a marriage ceremony for you in an hour."

Hermione and Steve gaped at her.

"Woah, I did _not_ see that coming," Sam muttered.

"Y-you're not serious!" Hermione stammered.

"Completely," Natasha replied. "You two belong together. Some people think a wedding is just a few words, some rings and a scrap of paper but I know it means more to you two than that and I'm _damned_ if HYDRA are going to take that away from you too."

Given recent events, Hermione and Steve had agreed to postpone both their wedding in the States and the one in the UK.

"We _are_ going to get married," Steve explained. "Just, you know, when the time's right."

"When will that be?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow. "And, I don't mean to be a downer, but how do you know either of you'll still be here by then – you were both at death's door a few days ago."

"This is crazy," Hermione muttered, thinking of the two intricate planning charts still sitting in her apartment. "We can't just have a wedding at the drop of a hat."

"I don't see why not," Sam shrugged. "If all you really want at the end of the day is to be married to each other, I reckon it doesn't matter how it's done."

Hermione turned to Steve. "Are we really considering this?" she asked faintly.

"I think so," he replied slowly, then looked suspiciously at Natasha. "Why does this priest owe you a favour?"

"It's nothing seedy or illegal, I assure you," she replied, holding her hands up innocently. "I _do_ have one stipulation though if you're going to do this; I get to wear that bridesmaid dress – it sounded perfect."

After a little more convincing from Natasha, Hermione and Steve agreed to the spontaneous wedding. They split into bride and groom parties, promising to be at the Church of the Annunciation in Cathedral Heights within the hour.

Steve returned to his apartment and picked up his groom suit which had been hanging in his closet for weeks.

"Here," he said, taking out a groomsman suit and handing it to Sam. "This was going to be Tony's; Hermione didn't trust him to look after it."

"Tony… _Stark?!_ " Sam asked faintly and Steve nodded. "I'm replacing Iron Man at your wedding? That's awesome!"

From the safe in his lounge, Steve took out a sleek, black box and handed it sombrely to Sam. "Just to warn you, if you lose these rings, Hermione will pick a really horrible spell to curse you with."

Sam gripped the box tightly.

The two of them arrived at the church with ten minutes to spare and the monsignor let them get changed in the side chapel.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked, buttoning up his pale grey waistcoat. "You OK?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Steve replied, sounding almost surprised as he shrugged on his stylish black jacket.

"Did you see this church is next to a school?" Sam commented and then he chuckled. "Imagine how crazy those kids would go if they knew Captain America and the Sorceress were getting married a few feet away from them!"

Three minutes later, they stood in front of the altar and Steve realised he was definitely nervous now. He didn't regret their decision to have this rushed wedding but it was still a daunting moment when you were prepared to formally commit yourself to another person for the rest of your life.

"Here," the monsignor said, handing each man a white rose to attach to their lapel. "I cut these from our garden."

"Thank you very much," Steve said earnestly. "I really appreciate what you're doing for us."

"Natasha is a very hard woman to refuse," he replied. "And it sounds like you two have been through some rough times."

Steve thanked him again and took a calming breath.

A bell tolled nearby to mark the new hour.

This was it.

One minute ticked by.

Then another.

Steve frowned. "Hermione's never late," he muttered.

Sam laughed and clapped him on the back. "Come on, don't start panicking. It's her wedding; brides are supposed to be late, aren't they? It's like a tradition, right?"

Steve wasn't convinced. He pressed the button on his watch to reveal his Hermione dial and was mightily relieved to see it showing her as 'Travelling'. He was about to move his hand away but then the dial moved to a different option and then indicated a third. Steve stared, stunned, as the dial continued to swing between the three choices: 'Travelling', 'Mortal Peril' and ' _Off World_ '…

* * *

A/N And so ends Hermione Granger: Sorceress! I offer absolutely no prizes for guessing the title of the next fic but don't expect to see it for quite a few weeks yet because I haven't finished writing it.

Thank you for all of your support for this arc of Hermione's journey in the MCU. If you have enjoyed this fic, please let me know (and tell me what you think is coming in the future!)

Hopefully it won't be long until I post again,

Lil Drop of Magic


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